


Before He Was Voldemort

by meganwritesbooks



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1940s, Angst and Romance, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Horcruxes, Manipulative Tom Riddle, Mild Smut, Pre-First War with Voldemort, Tom Riddle is His Own Warning, Tom Riddle's Diary, Unhealthy Relationships, Young Tom Riddle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:07:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 42
Words: 89,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29206371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meganwritesbooks/pseuds/meganwritesbooks
Summary: Corinne Carrow was anything but your stereotypical cunning Slytherin. She felt as if she didn't belong in neither her respectable Pureblood family nor at Hogwarts. But her life changed forever in her 6th year when her fate became intertwined with the notorious and tragically handsome Tom Riddle.You may think you know the story of the troubled orphan boy who grew up to become the most feared and powerful Dark wizard in history. But very few people knew that Tom Riddle happened to have one particular companion in his youth—one he may have even loved. So if Tom defied his own loveless nature despite all impossibility, what led him onto such a dark path? This is the alternate story of Tom Marvolo Riddle, before he was Voldemort.
Relationships: Tom Riddle | Voldemort/Original Female Character(s), Tom Riddle/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	1. Prologue | What Could Have Been

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is a reposted Tom Riddle fanfic I wrote in 2017 from my old Wattpad account. Even though I was a senior in high school when I finished this, I'm still quite fond of it. Of course it's not perfect and I'm trying not to furiously edit the entire thing as I type this. But I view this story as an example for me to look back on to see how much I've improved as a writer. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

_May, 1998_

The Dark Lord traveled through the opaque, dark skies of the night, the only indication of light in sight being the faint gleam of the crescent moon. He leaves a black trail of smoke behind him, Muggle passerby below mistaking him for ominous black clouds. _Foolish Muggles_ , he thought, and for a moment he contemplated on taking out every single one of them right then and there. But he decided against it, for he had one mission and one mission only tonight.

Voldemort landed before a wrought iron gate of an old brick townhouse located in the outskirts of London. The exterior of the home was in the exact same condition as it was the last time he visited it. He slipped the Elder Wand that was now in his possession into the sleeve of his billowing black robes, for he would not be needing it tonight. Then he breathed in deeply through his nose slits, and Apparated inside the home.

The lounge he now stood in was nearly pitch-black, reeking of must and mildew, poorly lit by a small lamp on the side table. Again, the home was exactly the same. Gazing around the room, there was clearly no sign of the owner of the house in which he came to visit. He Apparated again, this time into the upstairs bedroom.

The sound of his Apparation did not wake up the elderly woman that was in a deep slumber in her bed. Her bedroom was completely unlit except for the moonlight that cast through the crack in the white lace curtains adorning the window. Voldemort slowly stepped further into the room, taking in the old woman's appearance.

For a second, he thought the old woman was dead, she was so still. She was sickly pale and thin, and was obviously not in good health just by the mere sight of her. The covers were pulled up to her chest, her bony hands clasped together over her stomach. With each wheezy breath she took through her partly agape mouth, it sounded like it was a great struggle to inhale and exhale. Watching the elderly woman sparked something unknown and strange inside of Voldemort, and a vision began to play in his head.

_"Tom! Tom, come quick!"_

_With his wand gripped tightly in his fist and his shirt halfway-bottoned, Tom Riddle rushed into the living room with wide eyes, half expecting there to be an intruder. Once his eyes settled on the scene before him, his entire face softened and he dropped his wand._

_Corinne, his wife of nearly ten years, was sitting on her knees on the floor, her eyes and smile wide with excitement as she watched the young infant in front of her struggling to crawl for the first time. She clapped her hands encouragingly as the baby boy tried again, this time his chubby arms and legs propelling him forward a few inches. Tom couldn't help but smile at the sight of his wife laughing with glee and bringing the baby into her arms, pressing kisses to the little boy's hair._

_Noticing Tom's presence, Corinne stood up and walked over to him, carrying their child in her arms. "Can you believe he's crawling already?" she asked incredulously, smiling down at the baby boy, who was reaching for his mother's hair. "I think he's going to be an overachiever like you were."_

_Tom chuckled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his son's forehead, causing the baby to erupt in a fit of giggles. This triggered laughs from both Tom and Corinne, whose eyes met when they looked up. Their son began to wriggle in Corinne's arms, so she went over and placed him in his wicker bassinet nearby, shortly returning before Tom again. Her hands found the undone buttons of his shirt and buttoned them for him with ease, her fingers brushing up his bare chest, sending pleasant shivers down his body. Then his hands met Corinne's hips, pulling her closer to him._

_"I love you, Tom," whispered Corinne, smiling and wrapping her arms around his neck._

_Tom always struggled with saying 'I love you' back, only because he'd had no experience with the term during his childhood or the majority of his time at Hogwarts. That all changed when he met Corinne, and he was still getting used to the fact that this woman loved and accepted him no matter what he did in his past._

_And so he leaned in close until his nose rested against hers, breathing out, "I love you too, Corinne," before he softly pressed his lips against hers. The sound of their son's cries made them both pull away, and Tom immediately made his way over to the bassinet before Corinne did. She'd answered to the infant's cries far more times than he has._

_Tom picked up the small child and cradled him in his arms, marveling at what he had a hand in creating. The boy had his father's dark hair, which was beginning to curl at the ends, and his pale, white skin. He was, without a doubt, Tom Riddle's son. The only thing that differentiated the father and son was the baby boy's eyes. They were a rich hazel, like his mother's._

_Corinne was suddenly at Tom's side, wrapping an arm around his waist as she also stood in awe at their child. The baby boy was now asleep._

_"You've always been good at quieting him," Corinne whispered softly, leaning her head on Tom's shoulder._

_"I suppose so," Tom replied, the corners of his lips upturned. He exchanged glances with his wife, taking in her undeniable beauty, before his gaze wondered down to his son again. These two were Tom's entire life, and as much as his past self would hate him for admitting this, he wouldn't have it any other way._

Voldemort snapped back to his senses, his eyes landing on the sleeping elderly Corinne Carrow once more. Somehow, she had triggered some absurd fantasy in his mind, something so ridiculous that he almost wanted to bark out a laugh. But a single question itched at the back of his mind.

Is what he saw in that vision a glimpse of what his life would have been like if he had ceased his quest for immortality and power?

The Dark Lord was now angry. He was never one to question himself or even think of the possibility of himself being wrong. Well...at least that was the case until he met the woman lying before him sixty years ago.

Why is it that seeing Corinne again after all this time has made him feel this way, _yet again,_ when he wasn't supposed to feel _anything_ to begin with?

Frustrated that he didn't know the answer, he prepared to Disapparate, deciding that coming here was nothing but a mistake. Then a faint, raspy moan made his whole body tense up.

Corinne's body slowly moved under the blankets, her eyes fluttering open and blinking several times until her gaze traveled to the foot of her bed, where Voldemort was standing. Her eyes widened to the size of saucers and she let out a strangled gasp, resulting in a painful coughing fit, bits of blood spraying from her thin lips. Voldemort knew his snake-like appearance was startling and unrecognizable to her, and definitely wasn't going to help calm her. So, he muttered a spell under his breath, altering himself into the boy Corinne Carrow once knew.

"Shh," Voldemort, or what he now appeared as Tom Riddle, attempted to comfort her, cautiously stepping closer until he was at the side of her bed. He crouched down and carefully brought his hand to Corinne's wrinkled, yet beautiful, face and gently brushed a piece of her thinning gray hair away. "It's only me."

Corinne's panicked expression only worsened, and she was still coughing and spitting up blood. "I don't know...who you are!" she managed to gasp out through her coughs. "Leave immediately! Help! Intruder! HELP!"

Voldemort muttered, " _Muffliato_ ," mentally casting the spell over the house in case someone overheard her screams. Although he didn't know why she was calling for help. Didn't she know that she lived alone?

He continued to stare at Corinne in confusion. Had she really forgotten who he was? She was 70 years old now. Voldemort presumed that she was most likely suffering from dementia or some other Muggle disease that affects memory. Though he knew he shouldn't bother, Voldemort wanted this woman to remember him again.

They'd been through far too much for her to simply forget it all.

"You are going to remember me whether you like it or not," Voldemort whispered, pulling the Elder Wand out of his sleeve and pressing its tip to his temple. Corinne stared at the powerful wand in puzzlement, trying to sit up in an attempt to get out of bed, but with no avail. She was ogling at him as if she'd never seen a wizard before.

Voldemort muttered the incantation for the memory extraction charm under his breath, closing his eyes at the uncomfortable sensation of his memories being tampered with. He slowly brought the Elder Wand away from his head, a string of silvery light stretching outward, which contained a lifetime of memories involving Corinne. She watched in amazement and bewilderment at what was happening.

"This may feel a bit strange," Voldemort told her, and before she could react, he brought the Elder Wand to her head and pressed it to her temple, the light seeping through her skull and into her mind. Her eyes glazed over as she began to process the lost information occurring to her again all at once. It would be overwhelming for her, but it was necessary.

In silence, Voldemort watched as Corinne started remembering who she was, her life at Hogwarts and after Hogwarts, and most importantly, when she befriended Tom Riddle. And at the same time, the Dark Lord began reminiscing his own past as well.


	2. A New Friend

_September, 1938_

"Carrow, Corinne."

Whispers drifted about the Great Hall at the mention of yet another Carrow attending Hogwarts. The notorious Pureblood family that had been thriving for generations was almost a household name throughout the wizarding community, their talented offspring being the very reason for their fame. Now, the youngest and last child of Cornelius and Cressida Carrow was about to be Sorted, and all eyes were eagerly on her.

Eleven year old Corinne Carrow, a very small and wide-eyed blonde girl, slowly weaved through the group of upcoming first years and made her way up to the front, fully aware that if she managed to trip or do something else horrifically humiliating, she could very well taint her family's reputation. She then proceeded to lower herself onto the stool, making sure it was steady, before she took a deep breath and relaxed, waiting patiently as Headmaster Armando Dippet set the old and frayed Sorting Hat on top of her head, her head so small that the brim of the hat nearly covered her eyes . It immediately began muttering to Corinne, make her jump slightly.

"Ah, another Carrow," the Sorting Hat began in a scratchy voice. "And the final one at that. Where to put you, where to put you...?"

The hat paused in thought, giving Corinne enough time to glance over at the Slytherin table, where all five of her older siblings were sitting together. Her oldest brother and sister, Caspian, who was in his seventh year, and Celeste, who was in her sixth year, were each yawning, clearly bored by the event taking place. Sitting across from them was Cyrus, a fifth year, who gave her a small, reassuring smirk. Lastly, and certainly least, were twins Caine and Clarice, both in their third year, who were each sporting amused expressions, like they were expecting their youngest sister to mess up. 

"Certainly not a Gryffindor..." the Sorting Hat continued, bringing Corinne's focus back. "And you're no Ravenclaw either. Hmm...this is a tough one. Possibly Hufflepuff?"

 _Please, I'm begging you, put me in Slytherin_ , Corinne pleaded in her head, her palms growing clammier by the second. _My family will disown me if I'm not in Slytherin._

"Slytherin, eh?" the Sorting Hat retorted. It hummed at the idea. "Oh, alright. Seeming as you're a Carrow, anyway, I'd best put you in SLYTHERIN!"

The whole Great Hall responded with mannerly claps and cheers, and at the same time, Corinne let out a sigh of relief. One of her biggest fears- and there were quite many- that had been nagging at her all day was the possibility of her not being Sorted into Slytherin, like the rest of her family. Thank Merlin that didn't happen.

Corinne hadn't realized that she was still sitting on the stool until Headmaster Dippet cleared his throat and politely tapped her on the shoulder. "Miss Carrow, please go join your housemates at the Slytherin table."

"Oh!" Corinne squeaked, flushing in embarrassment. "Sorry."

She hurriedly made her way towards the Slytherin table, as if her walking quickly would get her out of the limelight faster, when in reality, it just drew more attention towards her. Fortunately, there was an empty seat next to Cyrus, who was patting it for her to sit down. Corinne gladly plopped down next to her favored brother.

"Congrats, sis," Cyrus told her, grinning. "Feels good to get the Sorting over with, doesn't it?"

Corinne nodded in agreement and returned a smile, then, out of habit, instantly corrected herself by covering her mouth with her hand. Her other siblings always rebuked her for her crooked teeth.

"Thank Merlin she didn't embarrass us too much," Caine commented, speaking obnoxiously loud, earning snickers from his twin sister.

" _Yeah_ ," Clarice chimed in. "Wouldn't want Corinne making a fool of herself, _again_."

The tormenting twins erupted in a fit of sniggers, to which Corinne ignored by turning around in her seat, her back facing them, and listened to the rest of the Sorting. There were quite a lot of first years this year. Corinne couldn't help but zone out as Headmaster Dippet droned on, calling up student after student, followed by a shout of one of the four houses from the Sorting Hat. The process took longer than expected. Then Corinne remembered the moments of her own Sorting that took place only minutes before and began to wonder.

Was she only put into Slytherin because she simply requested it, or was it only because of her family? What if the hat wasn't entirely sure which house to put her in? Corinne wouldn't dare question the abilities of the magical hat that had been Sorting students at Hogwarts for over a thousand years. Instead, Corinne questioned herself. She already didn't belong in her own family.

What if her case at Hogwarts was no different?

Shaking her head, which earned looks of, _I'm ashamed to call you my sister,_ from her siblings, Corinne forced herself to refocus on the Sorting. It was the next name that was called and the boy who gracefully made his way to the stool that sparked her interest, and it seemed that she wasn't the only one.

"Riddle, Tom."

The boy called Tom Riddle carried himself with poise and confidence that any snobby Pureblood would envy. Because she was raised in a family of them, Corinne was made sure to be aware of all magical Pureblood families, and the name Riddle definitely didn't sound like one. But with the aristocratic presence that Tom Riddle possessed, he had to be no less than a Pureblood.

The intriguing boy sat down on the stool with ease, flinching the slightest bit as the hat was placed on top of his perfectly parted dark hair. Not even a second later, the Sorting Hat shouted, "SLYTHERIN!"

That had to be a record Sorting time. Tom certainly had a Slytherin appearance about him, and it was no mistake that that was now his Hogwarts house. Corinne couldn't help but be envious of the perfect-seeming boy. He obviously knew exactly who he was, and exactly where he belonged. Corinne would give anything to have that kind of self-assurance.

Too preoccupied in her own thoughts, Corinne failed to notice that Tom Riddle had taken the empty seat beside her.

"Welcome to Slytherin house!" Cyrus greeted Tom, flashing one of his signature pearly-white smiles before sticking out his hand for the young boy to shake. Cyrus was really the only friendly member of the Carrow family.

Hesitantly, Tom accepted Cyrus's gesture, awkwardly taking half of the older boy's hand and shaking it. Judging by the uneasy expression on Tom's face, he probably wasn't used to such amiable treatment from others. Corinne knew the feeling. And because of this relatable thing in common between her and the boy, she felt obligated to be his friend. Corinne's mouth opened to greet Tom Riddle before she could stop herself.

"Hi, I'm Corinne," she said, turning to face Tom. Up close, he was strikingly handsome for an eleven year old boy, with porcelain white skin and stunning deep blue eyes. "You're Tom Riddle, right?"

Tom's eyes widened a bit, as if he were surprised by someone talking to him. "Uh...yes." Then he cleared his throat, speaking more confidently this time. "Yes, I am. And you're Corinne Carrow?"

"Yes," Corinne answered promptly. "Wait, how do you know my name?"

"The Sorting," Tom replied.

"Oh, right." Corinne felt her cheeks burning red and turned away.

It was silent for a moment, until Tom suddenly asked, "What is your blood status?"

Corinne blinked, taken aback by his question. "Um, Pureblood. What about you?"

Tom frowned. "I'm not sure."

"Oh." Corinne didn't know how else to respond. She could've sworn he fit into the Pureblood category. But that may not be the case if he didn't know his status. How could a wizard not know their blood status? Suddenly, Corinne felt disgusted with herself, worrying about someone's magical blood status so much, which was something her family obsessed over, not her. She immediately dismissed the topic in her mind.

Their awkward small-talk was interrupted, to Corinne's relief, by Headmaster Dippet announcing the end of the Sorting, then went on about the different rules and regulations of Hogwarts and such. Corinne tried to pay attention, but was distracted by unrelenting urge to continue her and Tom's conversation. She didn't know why, but something was telling her to be his friend. And Corinne was _dreadful_ at making friends, so her attempt at being friendly was bound to end disastrous. But she still very much wanted to try.

"Again, welcome to a brand new year at Hogwarts," Headmaster Dippet said, though the tone in his voice was far from cheerful. "Now, onto our Welcoming Feast!"

And with that, an array of spectacular and mouthwatering dishes appeared on each table in the Great Hall. Corinne grew up in the Carrow household with ten house elves, so she was very much familiar with massive feasts. But this was more food than she could have ever expected. She immediately began helping herself to servings of delectable roast beef, buttery potatoes, pudding, and more sides that only increased the mountain of food on her plate. Seeing her, you would've thought she was a starving child.

"Pig, much?" Caspian remarked at her plate, earning insolent snorts from Caine and Clarice.

"Merlin knows she needs it," Celeste added, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "She's as scrawny as our house elves!"

Corinne's siblings, except for Cyrus, who only shook his head in annoyance, burst into cackling laughter, and even a few of their friends joined in, making Corinne hang her head in embarrassment and let her blonde hair hide her now crimson face.

"I can't believe _she's_ your sister," a nasally-voiced girl clinging onto Caspian leered. "Is she adopted? She looks nothing like the rest of your family!"

Each of Corinne's siblings, even Cyrus, gave their youngest sister calculating looks, as if they were mentally debating the possibility. People always asked them if Corinne was adopted. She had blonde hair and hazel eyes, while the rest of her family had dark brown hair and brown eyes. Some of Corinne's earlier childhood memories consisted of her siblings telling her she was adopted, and the more they harassed her about it, she began to suspect it was actually true. She'd never trusted her parents enough to ask them about it. So, for now, Corinne kept the sensitive subject to herself.

"For all we know, she might be," Caspian replied, shrugging nonchalantly. Celeste, Caine, and Clarice chuckled lightly in agreement. Cyrus only gave Corinne a look of sympathy.

Corinne fought against the pool of tears swimming in her eyes, balling her fists in anger. _Of course_ her siblings managed to find a way to dampen her spirits on her first day of Hogwarts. At that point, she wanted nothing more than to disappear, away from her siblings and all those who made her feel weak and pathetic.

"Why are your siblings so cruel to you?" a small voice beside her asked, making Corinne peak out of the blonde curtain of hair around her face. Tom was staring at her with something that could have been concern, but appeared more as confusion.

Corinne sniffed and muttered feebly, "I don't know."

"I know what it's like," Tom told her, making Corinne finally look up at him. "To be bullied. You just have to stand up for yourself."

Corinne's lips spread into a small, grateful smile. She didn't even bother to hide her teeth this time. "Thank you, Tom."

Tom returned a small smile back. "You're welcome, Corinne."

The two first years ate their supper in comfortable silence, occasionally commenting on how delicious the food was or something they were each looking forward to when they began their classes. Tom was quite fascinating to talk to, Corinne came to realize. She had never met someone so eager to learn about magic before. They exchanged little things about themselves, and while Tom talked, Corinne ate and smiled as much as she pleased, ignoring her siblings' judgement for the first time in her life. Talking to Tom distracted her from the paranoia of doing something that could potentially harm her and the Carrow family's reputation.

Corinne had never felt so free and content.

Both children had made their first, real friend that night. Corinne felt like she could be herself and not just the outcast of the Carrow family, while Tom felt like he could finally talk to someone without feeling like they would ostracize him for being different. Corinne and Tom both felt like they could finally start over.

But alas, Corinne was too innocent and knew too little about Tom Riddle, unaware that he was an orphan boy with far too much anger, thirst for power, and malice brewing inside of him. Though the naive girl chose not to judge her new friend for his flaws.

For the time being, it was the start of a wonderful, though unfortunately temporary, friendship that would eventually reinstate itself when neither of them expect it.


	3. Sixth Year

_September, 1943_

Wizards always say that once you go to Hogwarts, you never want to leave.

This was not the case for Corinne. In fact, she was counting down the days until her very last day at Hogwarts. Because once she turns 18 and graduates, she's free to move out and live on her own.

Away from her family.

Unfortunately, she wasn't quite at that point yet. Corinne had only started her sixth year, but really it felt like she had been at Hogwarts for a decade. Before the term started, she couldn't help but have high hopes. Caine and Clarice, Corinne's least favorite siblings by far, had finally graduated, meaning she wouldn't have to deal with any bullying from her siblings anymore. She was now the only Carrow left at Hogwarts. Finally, she could own a new identity besides "the youngest Carrow sister." Maybe people would start noticing her as a real person, as Corinne.

Now, with it being over a week into the school year, her hopes quickly deteriorated.

At least when her siblings were at Hogwarts, people had somewhat of an idea of who she was. Now, it was like she didn't exist. Classmates she'd known for five years acted as if they'd never seen her before. Her Slytherin housemates, even roommates, never acknowledged her existence. Professors always forgot her name.

Not only was Corinne the black sheep of the Carrow family, but of Hogwarts also.

Her troubles had prompted her to not only be immensely conscientious of her time left at school, but to also start planning what she wanted to do with her life after Hogwarts. She would love to possibly be a famed reporter for the Daily Prophet, but women rarely had jobs like that these days. Finding work wouldn't be a difficult task, since Corinne is a Carrow, after all. Even if she doesn't find a job right away, she has enough money in her vault at Gringotts that could easily last her for the majority of her life. Being a Carrow isn't all bad.

_I sound just like my wealth-obsessed family_ , Corinne thought, laughing to herself.

She stopped scribbling into her diary when she realized she'd just written her previous thought, immediately scratching it out. Sighing, Corinne slipped her precious diary into her schoolbag, along with the textbooks she'd be needing for the day. Taking one last look in the mirror at her appearance, straightening her stiff skirt and tie and combing her fingers through her now darker hair, she exited her dorm room and started making her way to the Great Hall for breakfast. She squeezed past some of her housemates loitering near the Slytherin common room entrance, but of course they didn't pay her any attention. Corinne half expected them to make a rude remark to her, just like old times.

That was basically the only perk of suddenly being invisible to all of Hogwarts campus.

The Great Hall was as suffocating and crowded as always, the echoey acoustics already setting Corinne up for a nasty headache. She sat down at the end of the Slytherin table, where no one sat, and helped herself to the assortment of breakfast foods that appeared before her. Her eyes scanned the room, watching everyone laughing with their friends and enjoying each other's company. Corinne couldn't help but glare withe envy. Then, suddenly, the volume in the room dropped significantly, and everyone's attention drifted to the entrance of the Great Hall.

_Right on time_ , Corinne thought, rolling her eyes.

The posse of Slytherin males strode into the massive room, all in sync, as if they were soldiers marching. Each of them were popular in Slytherin house, but they weren't the ones that brought everyone's attention to the tight-knit group.

It was the particular male leading them, right in the front and center.

Tom Riddle shepherded his "followers", as Corinne referred to them, to their usual spot in the middle of the Slytherin table, everyone's eyes on them as they did so. Truly, it was amazing how loyal the boys were to Tom, following him everywhere he went and doing whatever he asked. It was like Tom was their king or depiction of a god. Surely they didn't stick around with him because they wanted to be his friend. Everyone knew Tom Riddle wasn't one to have friends.

Everyone quickly returned to what they were doing, knowing not to stare at Riddle's group for too long, but Corinne's gaze lingered on the boy who was once her friend. She almost hated to admit that Tom Riddle was undoubtedly the most attractive male student at Hogwarts. Not only that, but he was a brilliant wizard beyond his years and possessed a mysterious, bad boy-like quality that girls adored.

Corinne remembered Tom being quite handsome when he was younger, but the passing years had vastly improved him in the looks department. Now, every girl fawned at the mere sight of him and dreamed of being called his. But, of course, that was impossible.

Tom Riddle was off limits when it came to friends and relationships.

Corinne could consider herself lucky that she had the opportunity many years ago to be Tom's friend before he changed. She would be lying if she said she didn't miss those days. After all, Tom Riddle had been the only real friend Corinne ever had. And it was the same way vice versa. Some days, she would find herself wondering: What happened to the boy I once knew?

Dismissing the nostalgic thoughts, she sneaked one last peek at the boy, only to have her breath hitch in her throat and her heart leap in panic.

Tom was looking straight at her.

Corinne couldn't remember the last time he, or anyone, looked at her directly in the eye. It would have been exciting if it were any other pair of eyes but the set of enticing orbs that were piercing through her at the moment. Tom's gaze knocked the breath right out of Corinne's lungs, and her eyes began to sting as she found herself not being able to blink or look away. She didn't know how long the two of them had been locked in eye contact, but she never wanted it to stop. Then, the corner of Tom's lips curled into a smirk, making Corinne abruptly look away, her cheeks reddening.

She could picture him laughing at her, but didn't dare glance in his direction again. Instead, she grabbed her schoolbag and departed from the Great Hall as fast as she could without possibly drawing attention to herself. Then she remembered her invisibility dilemma and couldn't stop one question from venturing to the center of her thoughts.

_Why would Tom Riddle, of all people, notice me and no one else?_

* * *

Corinne's last class of the day was Potions with the Gryffindors. Whoever thought students would be able to focus at the end of the school day in Potions class was mental.

At least with a teacher like Professor Slughorn, you wouldn't be finding yourself dozing off to sleep. The fat, bumbling man wobbled into the classroom, chuckling to himself for whatever reason. His choice of clothes was interesting today; a purple velvet waistcoat with gold buttons that strained against his enormous belly, matching trousers, and squeaky loafers. The merry professor appeared to be extra jovial today, which meant brewing a potion was bound to be the assignment. Corinne hated these days since she didn't have a partner to work with.

"Good afternoon, class," Professor Slughorn said, beaming at everyone. Well, really he was beaming at Tom Riddle, who was unmistakably his favorite student. "Today, I have something a bit different planned for you all that I decided to do with all of my classes."

Murmurs filled the classroom. Corinne dreaded what the Potions professor had planned for them.

"Quiet, quiet," Slughorn hushed everyone, waving his beefy hands. "This will benefit everyone. I've decided to assign you all permanent Potions partners for the rest of the school year."

The class groaned, except Tom, who sat poised in his seat like the perfect teacher's pet that he was. Corinne pressed her palm to her forehead and exhaled in annoyance. _Why?_ she thought miserably. She was going to be forced to communicate with someone who got stuck being her partner for the rest of the year.

"Quiet!" Slughorn silenced the class again. "Headmaster Dippet insisted that we promote house unity at Hogwarts this year. Some of you may be thanking me later for doing this."

Ignoring everyone's protests, Professor Slughorn plodded towards the chalkboard and waved his wand, conjuring a list of the class's names who were partnered up. Being at the back of the classroom, Corinne squinted to find hers. Knowing Slughorn, who hasn't bothered to learn her name in the five years that he's known her, her name will most likely be horrendously misspelled.

And then she sees it. Even though it is indeed incorrectly spelled, her name is at the bottom, next to the very person's who never failed to make her heart stop.

_Tom Riddle and Chlorine Carrow_

_Just my luck,_ Corinne thought. _And Chlorine Carrow? Really, Slughorn?_

"Everyone needs to go sit next to their designated partners," Slughorn instructed, making the students reluctantly stand up and head to where their new Potions partners were sitting. Corinne knew Tom would never sit in the back with her, so she unwillingly made her way towards the front table to the far left, Tom's self-assigned seat since first year. Corinne recalled always sitting next to him those many years ago.

Not bold enough the meet his hypnotizing eyes again, Corinne plopped down next to him, pretending to be focused on the loose string on her jumper. She could feel Tom staring at her, and she tried not to fidget in discomfort. Potions this year was going to be especially unpleasant if _this_ was how it was always going to be. Corinne half hoped that Tom would say nothing to her and just do all the work. At least she'd have a decent Potions grade...

"Hello, _Chlorine_ ," Tom suddenly said, making Corinne head snap up to look at him. She was surprised at how smooth and welcoming his voice was.

Really? _That_ had to be the first thing he said to her in five years?

Corinne looked away as she replied, "You would think he knew my name by now."

Chuckling softly, Tom waved his hand towards the board, and Corinne watched as the letters in 'Chlorine' magically changed to 'Corinne.' She couldn't help but stare at him in awe.

"You know how to do wandless magic?" she asked incredulously.

Tom smirked. "Why so surprised?"

Corinne's mouth opened to respond, but no words came out. Up close, Tom was even more striking than from afar. She took note of his eyes, which were a beautiful deep blue, the gentle slope of his nose, his sculpted cheekbones and jaw, the way his dark hair cascaded across his head in soft waves, complimenting his pale complexion, his superbly-shaped pink lips...

"Tomorrow, you and your partner will be working on your first potion together," Professor Slughorn announced, breaking Corinne out of her trance. "That is all for today. Class dismissed!"

And with that, Tom had already gathered his things and exited the Potions classroom before Corinne could process what just happened. She'd just made a fool out of herself in front of the one person who seemed to be aware of her existence. The _one person_ who ever wanted to be her friend.

But things were different now. Tom Riddle was a completely different being than he was when he was eleven. There was no way he could be Corinne's friend again.


	4. Conversing in Potions

_September, 1943_

Tom laid on his bed staring up at the ceiling, very much in deep thought. Before today, all that ever occupied his mind were all the Horcruxes he planned to make. He- well, technically it was the basilisk- already murdered the ugly, moaning Ravenclaw girl back in June. All he had to do now was find an object plenty sufficient to place part of his soul into. And Tom had an object that suited that category laying on top of his desk.

His diary.

It contained every detail of his plan and every dark notion that he's had since his first year, when he received it for Christmas. The diary was his very first Christmas present, given to him by the one person who shared the center of Tom's focus right now, when his Horcruxes should have been his number one priority.

Corinne Carrow.

Tom dismissed Corinne out of his life years ago for a reason; he didn't want her apart of what he was planning. But now that she had somehow wormed her way back into his life again, Tom saw an opportunity. Corinne was the most innocent and naive person he's ever met, and judging by the way she was ogling at him in Potions class today, she may do whatever he asked with the right amount of manipulation. Yes, she would be very easy to persuade. But she also wasn't stupid.

So how would he go by getting Corinne to trust him enough to join his side?

Ideas began hatching in Tom's brilliant mind. He could go the drastic route and torture her until she agrees, which would be the easiest option, in Tom's opinion. But the image of Corinne screaming in agony was making him hesitate on the idea. Why was that? He didn't care about her.

He didn't understand why he cared about her in the first place. _Probably because I was such a weak_ _boy_ , Tom thought bitterly, gritting his teeth at the thought.

Sighing heavily through his nose, Tom decided to gain Corinne's trust a much more difficult way. He _had_ to become friends with her again. The concept of befriending someone made him sick to his stomach, but it was the only thing he could think of that would surely fool Corinne. She would fall for his trick and eventually trust him enough to do as he tells her. Then an interesting thought occurred to Tom.

What if Corinne even fell in love with him?

 _Even better_ , Tom thought, smirking to himself. He would have the same affect on Corinne as he did with all the other lovesick females in this school. It would be so _easy_.

With Corinne on his side, maybe she could assist him in finding objects that had utmost significance to become his other Horcruxes. He'd been wondering lately if it was possible to create not just one, but _multiple_ Horcruxes. Surely it had to be. With more Horcruxes, the less likely his immortality would be corrupted. It was more logical to split his soul several times.

He believed he could perhaps achieve this with Corinne, and here's why:

The Carrow family was famous for their extravagant lifestyle and lavish mansion. Most everyone in the European wizarding community knew this. It so happens that inside the family's massive home was one of the largest and most diverse collection of rare and valuable wizard artifacts. In fact, a great majority of the selection in Borgin and Burkes is provided by the Carrow's. Rumors suggest that in the midst of their collection is Salazar Slytherin's locket, a family heirloom that is rightfully his.

And Tom was willing to bet the Carrow mansion had the object that he desired. He just had to do whatever it took to gain access to their collection of treasures, even if that meant forcing himself to get closer to Corinne Carrow.

* * *

"Today, we will be brewing a fairly simple potion," said Professor Slughorn, pacing near the chalkboard. "You and your partner will have the entire class time to brew an elixir to induce euphoria. You may begin now."

Corinne inwardly groaned. Although there weren't many ingredients or instructions to this particular potion, there was a very slim chance of getting it perfectly right. At least she had Tom Riddle sitting beside her.

Tom gave her an expected look, and Corinne knew he was wanting her to go fetch the ingredients. Memorizing the short list in her potions textbook, she quickly made her way to Slughorn's cabinet of ingredients, grabbing way more than what was probably required, just in case. Corinne really didn't want an excuse to get up and walk across the classroom in front of everyone again.

When she returned to their table, Tom had already heated up their cauldron and was scanning his textbook. He immediately went to work and grabbed one shrivelfig, placing it in the bubbling cauldron. Corinne made an effort by dropping the appropriate amount of porcupine quills in, inadvertently bumping hands with Tom. They both jumped at the impact, Tom shooting Corinne a warning glare. She got the message and leaned away, blushing, letting Tom finish the rest of the potion.

She couldn't help but watch him as he worked. Tom was so focused, he probably wouldn't notice her staring. Each stir was precise and careful, his nimble hands handling each ingredient like a delicate flower. Speaking of his hands, Corinne's eyes fell upon a thick, heavy-looking ring on his left middle finger, the dark and smooth metal standing out against his pale skin. She was never a fan of men wearing jewelry other than an engagement ring, but Tom somehow made it work.

Her attention was brought back to his face. The center of his brows were pinched in concentration. Did he always do everything so... _perfectly_?

"I know I must be fascinating to look at, but I'd appreciate it if you'd stop," Tom suddenly said while stirring the potion, smirking. Even though he wasn't looking at her, his smirk widened as complete mortification appeared on Corinne's face.

"I-I wasn't looking at you," Corinne stuttered, attempting to hide her beet red face with her hair. She wanted to disappear.

Tom set down the stirring rod, leaning back in finality. Of course he was already done with the potion.

"You're a terrible liar, you know," Tom drawled, still smirking. Was that a permanent characteristic of his face?

Corinne decided to try and change the subject. She emerged from her hiding place of hair and peeked at their potion. "How did you finish that so fast?"

Tom looked at the potion proudly. "It was quite easy, really." Then he leaned in closer to Corinne, making her breath cease, and whispered, "Why would you ask that? You act like you've never noticed my tendency to finish my work before everyone else before."

Gulping at their proximity, Corinne replied softly, "I think everyone's noticed." Then she accidentally added under her breath, "It's a bit annoying, if you ask me."

Thankfully Tom didn't hear that last part.

The aroma from their potion began wafting around them, catching Corinne's attention. She inhaled the sweet scent, and in an instant she felt a rush of happiness and giddiness. Well, it was an euphoria-inducing potion, after all. Smiling, she continued to sniff the potion, which emitted her favorite scent.

"You look ridiculous," Tom muttered, grabbed Corinne's shoulder and pulling her away from the cauldron. His touch only intensified her sudden cheery mood. "If you continue smelling that potion, you'll probably start singing and dancing like an idiot."

Corinne giggled, the sound slightly startling Tom. "Quit being such a downer, Tom. Just smell it. It won't hurt anything."

"I'd rather not," Tom grumbled, staring at the overjoyed girl sitting next to him. "Why do you like the smell of it so much?"

"It smells like peppermint," Corinne stated simply, then her smile faltered. "I've always loved the scent. It reminds me of my grandfather..."

Corinne's grandfather, Henry Scovell, was the one person in her family, besides Cyrus, who treated her like an actual family member and not a nuisance. She rarely saw him since her parents didn't exactly approve of him, because he wasn't as strict about blood status as they were. But whenever Corinne had the privilege of visiting her dear grandfather, he would always give her enough peppermint candies to last her weeks. Although the candies would usually be all gone in days. You could say Corinne had a slight addiction to them.

"Corinne?" Tom said, snapping Corinne out of her thoughts. He looked mildly confused at her abrupt change in mood.

"Sorry, I sort of zoned out there," Corinne told him. The fragrance from the potion had subsided.

"Your hair is darker," Tom murmured, as if he'd just spoken his mind.

Corinne stared at him, his random statement taking her by surprise. "What?"

"Your hair is darker," Tom repeated, his face blank of emotion. "You used to have blonde hair."

"Yes, I did," Corinne said slowly, puzzled as to why he was talking about her hair. She looked down at her long brunette locks. "I colored it over the summer. Do you not like it?"

Tom frowned at her. "You changed your hair because of your family, didn't you? To make yourself more like them."

Corinne's mouth gaped like a fish. Where was all this coming from? Why was he so concerned about her hair, of all things? Yes, he was right. Corinne's family was the reason why she dyed her hair brown. She was just tired of standing out so much from them.

"Yes," Corinne answered honestly, staring down at her hands in shame. "I did."

Tom opened his mouth to speak, but Professor Slughorn teetered over to their table to observe their potion. He beamed at Tom's handiwork.

"Excellent work, Tom!" Slughorn exclaimed, not even acknowledging Corinne, who was literally right there. Sure, Tom did all the work, but she would have liked to be noticed. "Your potion is the perfect sunshine yellow color!" Slughorn then took the stirring rod and swirled it around the potion a few times, simultaneously inhaling. Corinne didn't notice before, but a hint of a rainbow was emitting from the golden liquid. "And the scent is perfectly aromatic and minty! You get a perfect score, as always! You are dismissed!"

Slughorn wobbled away to his desk, chuckling with glee. The potion had obviously taken a larger effect on him than Corinne.

Gathering her things as swiftly as she could, ready to retreat to her dormitory after a long school day, Corinne was about to walk off when she heard Tom say, "Corinne."

She paused in mid step, quirking a curious brow at him. "Yes, Tom?"

The intriguing boy hesitated before saying, "Just so you know, I preferred your hair blonde. It suits you better."

And with that, the anomaly that was Tom Riddle brushed past the bewildered brunette, leaving the classroom without any further conversation. Their entire encounter in Potions replayed its over and over again in Corinne's brain for the rest of the evening.

* * *

_9 September, 1943_

_My plan is coming to together just as I hoped. I have started talking to Corinne Carrow, allowing her to get more comfortable around me. Today I even teased her and complimented her hair, which completely took her off guard. I can guarantee that she is pondering about our conversation right now as I am writing this. I predict that she will start thinking of us as friends by the end of the week._

_Though it is going well so far, I do not know how long my plan will take place. It could be a month or two. Hopefully it won't last too long, for I am very eager to create my first Horcrux. I can't stop thinking of immortality. I believe it is the only thing that is keeping me sane around all the fools I have to endure life with everyday._

_I will keep you updated on the progress of my plan. Depending on how oblivious Corinne really is, I think I will succeed quite easily and quickly._

_\- T.M.R_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just FYI, from this point forward most chapters will include short entries from Tom's diary so we can get an idea of what's going on in his head.


	5. Harassed By Hornby

_September, 1943_

"Oi, you. Get up!"

Corinne was rudely awoken by a pillow being thrown in her face. Sitting up with a start, she looked around the dormitory for the culprit, gasping in shock when she saw Olive Hornby standing across the room in only her underwear, picking out her school uniform from her dresser. Olive was the type of girl with no shame. Even though Corinne had been roommates with her since first year, and was used to seeing the rude girl walking around indecently, it still made her highly uncomfortable.

"Olive, what was that for?" Corinne asked, annoyed.

Olive shrugged, buttoning her blouse. "Just thought I'd be nice and wake you up. Breakfast is almost over."

Corinne's eyes widened with panic, and she immediately flung herself out of bed to get dressed. "Why didn't you wake me up sooner?"

Putting on the rest of her uniform, adjusting her skirt by pulling it up to make it shorter, Olive smirked, grabbing her bag and heading towards the door. She replied over her shoulder, "It wasn't my problem."

_So much for a helpful roommate_ , Corinne thought spitefully towards Olive Hornby. She swears the ill-mannered girl has become even more terrible as a person since Myrtle Warren's death back in June. Rumors say Olive, who tended to bully Myrtle quite often, was the first person to find the Ravenclaw girl lying dead on the floor in the girl's bathroom.

Corinne supposed an incident like that would turn anyone bitter.

Huffing out in frustration, she started pulling random bits of clothing out of her drawers until she found a white button-up blouse, jumper, wool skirt, and green tie for the day. She didn't bother to fix the jumper that she'd accidentally put on inside out.

As soon as Corinne got dressed and darted down the stairs into Slytherin common room, she stopped short. Olive Hornby and her troublesome group of friends, who were blocking Corinne's path, were crowded around something in Olive's hands. The girls glanced up at Corinne, and then erupted in a fit of obnoxious giggles. Corinne's confused expression only made them laugh more. What was so funny? Did she have something on her face?

And that's when she saw what was in Olive's hands.

"Hmm, according to this," Olive said rather loudly, holding up Corinne's diary. "It says she wants to be a reporter for the Daily Prophet. Ha! She thinks a _nobody_ like herself will amount to something!"

Olive and her friends laughed, along with the people in the Slytherin common room who heard her, making Corinne's face burn bright red in humiliation. This probably made everyone laugh harder at her. Why was this happening? What did she ever do to Olive? Corinne always complained about being invisible, but right now, she wanted to be just that.

"Oh, listen to this!" Olive wheezed through laughter. To Corinne's horror, she began reciting directly from the diary, "' _Dear diary: So as from now, I am Potions partners with Tom Riddle. Who would've_ _thought?_ '" Olive cackled. "You heard it, everyone! The nobody fancies Riddle!"

"Oh, look at her, Olive!" Delores Umbridge, a 4th year Slytherin, squealed in delight with her abnormally high-pitched voice. "She's crying!" She looked to Olive excitedly for approval. Delores liked to follow Olive and her group around like an obsessive fanatic.

With tears brewing in her eyes, Corinne yanked her diary from Olive's hands, running out of the common room as fast as she could, trying to ignore the laughs echoing behind her. Choked sobs escaped her lips. Memories of her past years of Hogwarts when her siblings and their friends bullied came flooding back to her. Things were supposed to be different this year. With her siblings gone, the bullying was supposed to stop.

Corinne wanted nothing more at that moment than to go back to being invisible again. It was much more peaceful that way.

She knew she could never face her housemates again. And knowing Olive Hornby and her reputation of spreading gossip, whatever she read in Corinne's diary could be all over the school by the end of first period. Not caring about the consequences, Corinne made her way to the one place that no one would find her while they were at their lessons.

* * *

"Corinne. Corinne, wake up."

A light shove shook Corinne awake, a lot more gentler than how Olive woke her up this morning. Her eyelids fluttered a few times, her sight adapting to the dark lighting around her. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw Tom Riddle looming above her.

"Tom!" Corinne gasped, clutching her rapidly thumping chest. "You startled me. What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Tom said smoothly, gazing down at her. "What are you doing sleeping on the floor of the Restricted Section of the library?"

Corinne blushed, racking her brain for an explanation that didn't sound pathetic as she got up off the floor. "Uh...I was tired, and I happened to be in here...so I came back here and I guess I dozed off."

Tom quirked an eyebrow, obviously not buying it. _Of course he's not_ , thought Corinne. _He's Tom_ _Riddle, for Merlin's sake. He's not an idiot._

"That is a pitiful lie," Tom replied, crossing his arms. "Tell me why you're really here, without a teacher's permission, or I'll be forced to give you a detention."

Corinne glanced at his authoritative Prefect's badge and sighed in defeat. "Fine, I was..." She lowered her voice in shame. "I was hiding because I didn't want to face anyone today."

"You've been here all day?" Tom asked, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "I must say, I didn't know you were so rebellious."

"I am not," Corinne retorted, leaning against the bookshelf behind her. "If anything, I'm the complete opposite."

There was brief silence before Tom suddenly said, "I know why you're hiding."

Corinne's heart leapt in her chest. _Please, Merlin, don't let him know about this morning._ "Y-You do?"

Tom nodded slowly. "You're embarrassed because of what Hornby did to you this morning in the common room."

Corinne's heart sunk and her throat felt constricted. "Oh..." She ducked her head down, allowing her hair to cover her blushing face.

"Bullying a student is strictly against the rules," Tom said matter-of-factly, as if he were reading straight from a book. "So I did what was appropriate and deducted house points from Slytherin and gave Hornby a detention."

"What?" Corinne's head snapped up, her mouth slightly gaping open.

"You heard me, Carrow."

"Yes, I did," Corinne replied, still shocked at what Tom had just confessed. "Um, thank you. For what you did. I appreciate it."

Tom cleared his throat awkwardly and nodded. "You should be heading to the Great Hall. Dinner will be starting soon."

_What?_ Did Corinne really sleep that long? She doesn't even remember when she fell asleep in the library.

"I'll see you later," Corinne said, walking past him quickly. She didn't realize it until now, but something about Tom made her feel uncomfortable. Though she couldn't place a finger on it.

"You'll have to stand up for yourself sooner or later," Tom told her, making Corinne stop in her tracks and spin around. She was instantly reminded of the last time Tom had told her to stand up for herself.

"You told me that on our first night at Hogwarts," she told him, her lips curling upwards at the memory.

"I did," Tom replied, nodding. "Yet, you still haven't taken my advice. Why is that?"

Corinne wondered the same thing. Why couldn't she stand up for herself? She's come up with plenty of comeback remarks for her siblings, and even a few for Olive Hornby this morning. So why did she always just stand there and take the verbal abuse?

"I-I'm not sure," Corinne admitted, shrugging. "I guess it's just hard for me."

Tom didn't say anything, but simply stared. Corinne fidgeted in place. She may have been misinterpreting, but it appeared that Tom was thinking of an appropriate response. She remembered, when they were younger, how he would always purse his lips tightly whenever he was trying to make conversation with her. He was doing the same thing at the moment.

"I should get going..." Corinne said, beginning to walk off.

"Wait," Tom blurted out, holding up his hand. "Let me walk you."

Did _the_ Tom Riddle just ask to walk with her to the Great Hall? Was he ill?

"Um.." Corinne figured, _what's the harm?_ "Sure. Thank you, Tom."

The walk down the corridors leading to the Great Hall was anything but talkative. Tom strayed a few steps ahead, making Corinne struggle to keep up with his long strides. He walked with such poise and grace, like a royal. Whereas Corinne walked slightly hunched over with her head kept down. She'd adopted that posture after being harassed for so many years.

"So according to Hornby," Tom said, turning his head to look back at Corinne. "You apparently fancy me."

Corinne's face paled. Where had he heard that? Either he was somewhere in the room during the incident this morning, or Olive had told him. _That bitch_ , she thought, enraged.

"I-I do not!" Corinne spluttered, in complete abashment that she was having this conversation with Tom Riddle. "Olive was lying to you just to humiliate me!"

"Ah, I see," Tom replied, his lips growing into a smirk. "But if I didn't know any better, I'd say you _did_ fancy me. Your face is awfully red."

_Today is just not my day, is it?_

"I'm being interrogated by you about an embarrassing topic, _of course_ my face is red," Corinne retaliated, not daring to meet Tom's gaze. She wanted their walk to the Great Hall to end as soon as possible so she could run away and hide again.

"Well-" Tom stopped mid-sentence when they heard voices coming around the corner.

"Oi, Riddle!" Corinne recognized the voice as one of Tom's gang members. Lestrange, Avery, and Rosier rounded the corner, spotting their leader. Tom immediately straightened his posture and strode towards them, not even saying goodbye to Corinne. She figured he didn't want to be seen around her.

When Tom and the other three boys were out of sight, Corinne turned around, heading towards the Slytherin common room. When she made it to her dorm, luckily not running into anyone, she packed a small bag full of her belongings and left, not wanting to be roommates with Olive Hornby and her friends any longer. She'd find somewhere else, hopefully temporarily, to sleep each night.

* * *

_11 September, 1943_

_Today was strange. First, I overheard Olive Hornby's loud mouth reading Corinne's diary aloud in the common room this morning. She even said Corinne fancied me. I found that amusing, but I was also outraged that Hornby would humiliate Corinne like that. I don't understand where my sudden anger came from._

_I nearly cursed Hornby when I gave her a detention afterwards._

_Next, I found Corinne sleeping in the Restricted Section of the library. She had evidently skipped her lessons because of the diary incident. It infuriates me that I had a small bit of sympathy for her, like I was actually_ _her friend. How ridiculous!_

_I cannot help but wonder why I am suddenly feeling these strange things. Anger that someone would hurt Corinne. Sympathy for Corinne. A bit of excitement at the thought of Corinne fancying me. My plan had vanished from my thoughts when I felt these strange emotions. Why is that?_

_I have to remain focused. I have to remember why I'm pretending to befriend Corinne in the first place. She is merely my pawn and nothing more._

_\- T.M.R._


	6. Getting Caught

_September, 1943_

It had been a little over a week since Corinne had moved herself out of her dormitory, and she was beginning to appreciate just how comfortable her old bed was. Her new substitute of a bed was a cot she had "borrowed" from the hospital wing. Sure, it was without permission, but Corinne would return the cot once she figured out a better living arrangement. At least her invisibility has proven itself handy. Being sneaky was probably the only Slytherin quality Corinne possessed.

As for where her temporary living quarters was located, well...it was a broom cupboard near the library. It sounded incredibly sad whenever Corinne thought about it, but where else could she go? She couldn't exactly sleep in the library, even though she would much prefer that than a cramped broom cupboard.

Luckily, no one entered the cupboard at nights while Corinne was sleeping. Neither Filch or the patrolling Prefects had stumbled upon her yet, much to her surprise. Although, just in case anyone were to go in there while Corinne was at her lessons, she used the Shrinking charm to reduce the size of her belongings, hiding them out of sight behind the shelf of cleaning supplies. As depressing as the situation seemed, Corinne was quite proud of herself for not getting caught. She wondered how long she could live in the broom cupboard without being noticed.

Corinne still hadn't found the courage to sit in the Great Hall during mealtimes, fearing Olive Hornby and her friends would make a fool of her again. It was bad enough sharing classes with them, which Corinne unfortunately couldn't avoid. So, she always snuck into the Great Hall early before meals started, stuffing food into her bag and proceeding to eat it in the refuge of her broom cupboard. It was a rocky system at first, but Corinne had gotten better at making swift escapes. It was amazing how oblivious people could be.

Today was Saturday, and it was also the first Hogsmeade trip of the school year, to Corinne's delight. That meant everyone would be out today, leaving her to relax in the solitude of the library all day without anyone to bother her. Having studied Filch's Saturday cleaning pattern, Corinne discovered he entered the broom cupboard by the library and mopped the floors in that area sometime around noon. She made sure to stay out of his way.

Upon stepping into the library, finishing off the last bit of toast that she'd eaten on her way up, Corinne realized she wouldn't be alone today after all. The handsome boy sitting at the farthest table from the door was honestly the last person she wanted to see right now. So why was her brain saying _that_ , but her legs were already making her head straight towards him?

A lump formed in her throat as she sat down across from Tom, pulling out her book to attempt to hide her burning face. Daring to glance up, she nearly choked under Tom's glare, which reflected an intimidating look that said, _How dare you sit in my presence._

"Why aren't you at Hogsmeade?" Tom said lowly, casually continuing to read a book titled, _Introduction to the Dark Arts._

"Most likely for the same reason you're not either," Corinne replied, eyeing the book in his hands. "That's a curious read you've got there."

The corner of Tom's lip lifted slightly, his eyes still fixated inside the book. "It's just something I came across as I was browsing." Then he glanced up briefly at Corinne's own book. "That wouldn't happen to be the diary in which you wrote about me, would it?"

"No!" Corinne said maybe a bit too defensively. She then realized that she actually _was_ holding her diary and quickly shoved it back in her bag.

Tom set his book down and intertwined his slender fingers together. "No need to be ashamed, Corinne. You're definitely not the only female in this school who is smitten with me."

Corinne couldn't help but snort. "You're unbelievably arrogant."

"I don't see that as a bad thing."

Giggling, Corinne got up and walked over to a nearby shelf, pulling out a book by random. Then she sat back down at Tom's table, cracking open the dusty book, rubbing the corner of the crisp, aged page in between her thumb and middle finger.

"Interested in love potions?" Tom asked, his eyes twinkling in amusement, nodding his head to the book in front of Corinne.

She flipped to the front and peered at the title, _Secrets of Love Potions_. Really? She had to choose _this_ book? Hasn't Tom Riddle made fun of her enough today?

"Mhm," Corinne hummed, trying to sound confident in her choice of book, even though she wanted nothing more than to toss the love potion book out a window. The thought of a potion that made the drinker become madly infatuated with someone, and that was mistaken for _love,_ has always disgusted Corinne.

Both Tom and Corinne were silent, both seemingly immersed in their books. But neither knew that the other was reading the same sentence over and over again.

"So, I've noticed lately that you've been avoiding eating in the Great Hall," Tom suddenly said, making Corinne's whole body tense up.

"You have?" Corinne asked, focusing more on the words on the page she'd been stuck on, trying to act clueless about his insinuation.

"Yes," Tom replied, staring at Corinne calculatedly. "Where do you go during those times?"

What was she supposed to say? _Oh, you know, I eat in a broom cupboard everyday. I also sleep there every night._

Tom would never let her live that down.

Corinne decided to dodge the question. "I believe that is none of your business, Tom."

"Is that so?" Tom raised an eyebrow, closing his book and leaning forward, making Corinne gulp. His eyes were like lie detectors. "I also overheard from Hornby that you moved out of her dormitory. Care to explain that?"

"Why are you interrogating me?" Corinne asked, avoiding yet another one of his questions. She wiped her sweaty hands against her skirt under the table.

Tom crossed his arms and replied smoothly, "As a Prefect, it is apart of my list of duties to supervise those in my house. I am obligated to know where you run off to everyday during mealtimes, and where you're staying instead in your designated dormitory."

Corinne stared at him blankly, her throat tightening. His cold gaze made her want to shrink down in her seat. She had to tell him something, but what was a good excuse that would fool someone as clever as Tom Riddle?

"Not going to tell me, are you?" Tom inquired, smirking. "Well, I'm sure I will find out soon enough. I'm pretty good at finding the information I desire."

And with that, Tom gathered his book and tucked it in his robes, fleeing briskly from the library. Corinne watched him as he left, his robes billowing behind him like a cape. Tom was right; he would surely figure out that she's been staying in a broom cupboard. But what would he do once he found out? Give her a detention? Report her to Headmaster Dippet?

What if he told everyone? She could imagine now the different insults Olive Hornby would harass her with about how pathetic she was.

The different scenarios swirling in her head made Corinne panic. She had to be more careful now that Tom was onto her. Getting caught was _not_ an option.

* * *

Although Tom loved being a Prefect, having authority over everyone else, he did not like patrolling the halls so much every night for dimwitted students out of bed. He usually caught a student or two red-handed every night or so. He hated patrolling, but he _did_ like feeling of giving them a detention and taking house points away.

Tonight was abnormally quiet. Tom was about to head back to the Slytherin common room when he saw a faint glow down the second floor corridor, near the library. Curiosity overcame him as he made his way towards the potential rule-breaker. He stopped halfway down when the glow disappeared. It was coming from the crack under the door of the broom cupboard.

_Great_ , Tom thought, regretting barging in on yet another snogging couple. _At least let them have their clothes on._

Removing his wand from his robe sleeve, he sighed and muttered, _"Alohomora."_

The wooden door unlocked and flung open, revealing someone he wasn't expecting. Corinne Carrow stared back at him, frozen in place on top of a cot and wide-eyed. Tom was in the same physical state, not knowing what to do or say, which was _never_ the case. Then it all clicked. This is where Corinne has been sleeping and hiding during mealtimes.

Someone sleeping in a broom cupboard was the most pitiful thing Tom had ever heard. He almost wanted to laugh. But he couldn't. He felt _sorry_ for Corinne, like he did when Hornby humiliated her. Tom was not supposed to feel sympathy.

" _Please_ ," Corinne whispered, barely audible. Tom couldn't see her face in the dark well, but judging by the desperation in her voice, he knew she was scared. "Don't tell anyone."

Tom debated what to do. Corinne was breaking a rule, and it was Tom's responsibility to report any misconduct. He ought to drag Corinne to Headmaster Dippet's office right now and let him deal with her.

But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Something was holding him back, and he didn't know what. And that angered him.

Without saying anything, Tom slammed the door of the broom cupboard, startling Corinne so much that she let out a small squeak. With his fists and jaw clenched, he marched down the corridors all the way to his dormitory, not bothering to change out of his robes as he plopped down on his bed. Tom watched in disgust as he roommates snored and drooled in their sleep. Maybe he should do what Corinne was doing and find somewhere else to stay every night. Somewhere more private.

Yes, that sounded like a splendid idea, the more he thought about it.

* * *

_20 September, 1943_

_I cannot stop thinking about what happened when I caught Corinne sleeping in the broom cupboard. If it were anybody other than her, I would have immediately taken them to the Headmaster. I revel in the idea of someone being punished for doing wrong. But why didn't I think that was a good idea if I placed Corinne in the picture?_

_Lately, I have noticed that I have been questioning myself quite often. That repulses me. Questioning yourself makes you weak. And I am certainly not weak. Corinne is making me feel this way._

_There is only one way to rid my brain of these obnoxious thoughts. I must create my first Horcrux. The perfect time to do so will be next Saturday, when everyone else is at Hogsmeade. This will be happening much earlier than I anticipated, but it is necessary. I will hold a meeting with the Knights of Walpurgis so they can witness their leader's first step of immortality._

_In exactly one week, my immortal life will truly begin._

_\- T.M.R._


	7. A Late-Night Visitor

_September, 1943_

Corinne felt weak for running away from her problems, when she knew she was strong enough to handle herself. But after so many years of being bullied and stepped all over, she just _snapped_. Longterm torment had taken its toll on her. Now Corinne felt that the only thing she could do was hide to avoid getting hurt again. If she had to sleep in this very broom cupboard until she graduated, then so be it.

It's been over a week since Tom Riddle came across Corinne in the broom cupboard, and it boggled her mind that she hasn't been reported. Tom was all about enforcing the rules. So why did he simply just let her off the hook? It was so unlike him. Though Corinne was grateful Tom hasn't informed Headmaster Dippet on her nightly whereabouts.

Unfortunately, for the last couple of days, Tom had stopped speaking to Corinne. She wasn't going to lie; it was disappointing. Really, it was foolish of her to think she could befriend the Slytherin boy again. Corinne probably ruined that chance by getting caught sleeping in a bloody _broom cupboard_. Tom probably thought she was unbelievably pathetic, and never wanted to associate with her again.

Corinne couldn't even look at Tom again without bowing her head in shame.

The two had four classes together, but the one class that was difficult to ignore each other in was Potions. They were still Potions partners, so they were required to have some sort of communication. This wasn't very hard for Tom, since he did all the work. The two had a silent understanding; Corinne retrieved the ingredients while Tom brewed the potion. It was an awkward situation, but it worked.

Why did Corinne want to restore their somewhat "friendship" so badly? If anything, they were just Potions partners and nothing more.

At the moment, Corinne was in History of Magic, a class she was more dreadful at than Potions and Transfiguration. Professor Binns, their ghostly teacher, was like a machine that didn't stop relaying information, even if someone raised their hand and asked him to repeat something. Corinne had a slow hand and could never match the speed of her quill against parchment with the ancient professor. Halfway through the lesson, she'd give up and just listen, which is what the rest of the class did anyway. Except Tom, of course, whose quill was in synch with Professor Binns's every droning word.

Corinne sat near the front, close to Tom and his gang, which always made her nervous. The boys were chattering amongst themselves, distracting her from her note-taking.

"Riddle, are you alright?" asked Lestrange, who sat directly behind Tom. He was a tall, lanky boy with curly brown hair and a slightly pointed face. Though not as handsome as Tom, Lestrange was still very much widely popular with the females in their year. "You haven't really been acting like yourself since..."

"I suggest you shut up and quit running your mouth, Lestrange," Tom hissed, glaring daggers at Lestrange. "And what did I tell you about calling me Riddle?"

The tone in his voice was low and dangerous, sending a chill down Corinne's spine. She'd never heard him speak that way before. Did he always address his group members that way? The thought was chilling.

"Y-Yes, my Lord," Lestrange whispered, not saying another word afterwards.

Did Corinne hear him correctly? _My Lord_? She knew Tom tended to hold himself above others, but did he really classify himself as a _Lord_?

Once class ended, Tom was out the door first, as usual, leaving his group behind. The boys lingered in the classroom, so Corinne decided to take an extra long time to gather her things, listening to their hushed exchange.

"You dolt!" Alphard Black whispered to Lestrange furiously. Alphard had short black hair and big brown eyes, which were always lined with dark circles underneath. "You know what happens when you call him Riddle."

"It was an accident!" Lestrange replied, then gulped and lowered his voice. "You don't think he'll be too hard on me...do you?"

"I dunno, mate," said Avery, running a hand through his dirty blonde hair. "You better hope to Merlin he lets you off easy. He hasn't been the same since Saturday."

Corinne watched Lestrange's face pale significantly.

"Let's catch up to him before he gets impatient," Rosier suggested, leading the way as the four boys exited the classroom, leaving Corinne in a whirlwind of thoughts. The boys's disturbing discussion replayed in her mind.

_You know what happens when you call Riddle by his name._

_You don't think he'll be too hard on me...do you?_

_You better pray to Merlin he lets you off easy._

_He hasn't been the same since Saturday._

Were the boys really _that_ scared of Tom? What does Tom do to them when they call him by his name? He couldn't treat the closest thing he had as friends in such a harsh way that has them terrified of him. And what did they mean by him not being the same since Saturday? Did something happen, and that's why he's stopped talking to her?

Tom seemed disturbed at times, but he couldn't be capable of such foul things. Right?

Maybe that's what Corinne wanted to believe. Maybe she didn't know Tom Riddle as much as she thought she did.

Plagued with disturbing scenarios of Tom, Corinne couldn't bring herself to eat dinner that evening. The thought of the only real friend she ever had possibly being an entirely different person was sickening. She didn't know what to think anymore. People changed, yes. But Corinne didn't want to believe Tom had grown up into someone vile and dark.

Her mind was so jumbled, she couldn't focus on writing in her diary, the one activity besides reading that comforted her. The broom cupboard was cold, damp, and reeked of mop water, which certainly weren't most relaxing of conditions. Corinne sighed and leaned back on her cot, the fabric straining against the support rods. Her wand was being used as a makeshift light, wedged in a crack in the stone wall to light the whole cupboard. Footsteps of students passing by thumped past the door, making Corinne's heart speed up each time.

All a person had to do was unlock the broom cupboard door and see her, then run off and tell the whole school. The paranoia of that happening was becoming exhausting.

That exhaustion inadvertently caused Corinne to drift off into a long evening nap.

* * *

A soft knock on the broom cupboard door startled Corinne awake, nearly making her fall off of her cot. She mentally cursed herself for leaving her wand lit and quickly whispered, " _Nox_ ," to extinguish it. Who in Merlin's name was knocking on the door? Panic consumed her as she tried to figure out what to do. Whoever was at the door knew someone was in the broom cupboard because of Corinne's lit wand.

She decided to wait. If they weren't going to force their way inside, maybe they'd leave. Corinne held her breath and prayed her unexpected visitor was gone already, and hopefully not on their way to report her to a teacher. She didn't notice how badly she was shaking as she continued to wait for what seemed like forever.

Suddenly, there was another gentle knock, but this time, something slid beneath the door, followed by the sound of footsteps walking away. Sighing with relief, Corinne muttered, " _Lumos_ ," and inhaled sharply at the small slip of parchment by the door. Someone had slipped her a note. And only one person knew she was in here.

Eager to see what was written, Corinne slowly stood up, wincing at the creaky cot, and picked up the note, holding her wand to it to read two neatly scrawled words.

_Eat up._

Corinne furrowed her eyebrows at the message. What was it supposed to mean? Unless the visitor left something else outside the door...

Before she could stop herself, Corinne carefully turned the doorknob, opening the door a crack and peeking outside into the dark corridor. There was no sign of her late-night visitor. Then Corinne looked down at the floor, staring at what was laying before the door.

It was a small plate covered with what appeared to be a napkin.

Picking it up, Corinne retreated back into the broom cupboard, quietly shutting the door. Then she lifted the napkin off the plate to discover a neatly-made sandwich. Her stomach growled at the sight, reminding her that she forgot to eat dinner. That problem was now solved. Corinne sighed in content as she devoured the sandwich, then thought about the person who brought it to her.

Judging by the conversation she overheard from his gang members, Tom Riddle now didn't seem like the type of person to make such a kind gesture.

So why, after ignoring her lately, would he risk sneaking out of bed to bring Corinne dinner?

* * *

_30 September, 1943_

_Two nights ago was a success. My diary now contains part of my soul._

_I must admit, the process was excruciating. I could feel my soul ripping and writhing inside me, and the feeling of a thousand boiling knives overtook me. Supposedly, creating a Horcrux is more painful than the Cruciatus Curse. But I survived it. And with part of my soul gone, so are some of those troublesome feelings._

_I realize my mood has changed. This must be a side effect. I lost a fraction of my humanity, after all. Darkness is bound to overtake my conscience. And I'm prepared to accept it with open arms._

_Anyway, today I noticed Corinne didn't come to dinner early to sneak food out of the Great Hall, which she has been doing every day for the past few weeks. So I acted upon it and did something that I'm truly disgusted with myself for doing. I left a plate of food outside the broom cupboard in which she is currently staying in. Corinne will figure out it was from me. Now, she is going to think I care enough about her to bring her dinner._

_Though I had a strange thought while I was bringing her the plated sandwich. A small part of me brought it to her because I didn't want her to starve. Why? Creating a Horcrux was supposed to fix me. Why am I still thinking about Corinne?_

_I took out my anger for having such a ludicrous thought on Lestrange, who I used the Cruciatus curse twice on. He deserved it for not addressing me as his Lord. My followers are incredibly dense, but they will learn soon enough to speak to me with the utmost respect, or there will be consequences._

_\- T.M.R_


	8. Occupying His Thoughts

_October, 1943_

October blew in and presented itself in the most extreme of ways. It was unseasonably chilly for an autumn month, much to everyone's discomfort. The unexpected cold brought an onslaught of frigid drafts throughout the stone corridors of Hogwarts, causing its inhabitants to break out their winter clothing much earlier than anticipated. The temperatures dwindled significantly at night, and while everyone curled up in the warmth of their beds, Corinne found herself regretting her choice of domicile. A broom cupboard wasn't exactly the coziest of places.

It was a particularly dreary day, seemingly making it difficult for students to stay awake during their lessons. Though Tom did not have this problem, for he wasn't weak to succumb to the tempting effect that was drowsiness. He stayed alert and poised as Professor Slughorn discussed the history behind the shrinking potion, a brew he had studied countless times before. But nonetheless, Tom payed attention to the professor's every word, unlike his peers sitting around him. With Slughorn's gaze remaining on him, he had to restrain himself from sneering in disgust at the good-for-nothings snoozing much too loudly.

"Would anybody like to tell me the first three ingredients in a Shrinking Solution?" asked Slughorn, looking expectantly at Tom.

 _Is he at least going to_ try _to challenge me?_ Tom thought proudly before raising his hand.

"Yes, Tom?" Slughorn beamed at the brilliant boy sitting before him.

"I believe the first three ingredients to a Shrinking Solution are minced daisy roots, peeled Shrivelfig, and sliced caterpillars," Tom replied with ease, his lips curling up in satisfaction at Slughorn's joyous approval.

"Excellent, Tom! 10 points to Slytherin!"

Not that Tom cared about house points, but proving his intelligence to his fellow classmates was well worth it.

Slughorn then asked the class to brew the actual Shrinking Solution, making everyone groan once they saw the amount of steps in the recipe. _Lazy fools_ , thought Tom, immediately getting to work. Per usual, Corinne went and retrieved an armful of ingredients, grabbing more than what was required. This secretly infuriated Tom, but he never said anything. Corinne sat in silence, hunched over in her signature withdrawn posture that resembled a turtle, as Tom prepared the first ingredients to drop into the steaming cauldron.

Corinne was unbearably silent. Well, she was always silent, but at least she added occasional commentary while Tom was concocting a potion. Though he didn't realize it yet, conversation actually helped him feel more comfortable while he worked, as opposed to working in complete silence. Corinne hasn't said a word since Tom began, and it was starting to bother him. Something so simple shouldn't be bothering him so much.

With Tom's mind elsewhere, he didn't realize his scalpel was misplaced and missed the daisy root he was chopping, slicing the side of his finger. Hissing sharply, he caught Corinne's attention, whose eyes widened at the sight of the blood pooling out of his finger.

"Do you need to go to the hospital wing?" Corinne asked, her eyebrows furrowed with concern.

Tom wrapped his hand around his bleeding finger. "No, of course not. It's just a scratch." Although, he would prefer if he had a bandage.

"But, you're bleeding-"

"You don't think I've noticed?" Tom snapped, growing impatient at Corinne and angry at himself for doing something as stupid as accidentally injuring his finger. "If you're so _worried_ about me, why don't _you_ finish chopping these daisy roots?"

Corinne blinked, probably surprised that her assistance was requested. Tom would never ask for help from anyone unless it was absolutely necessary. He was just a bit _handicapped_ at the moment.

Without any protest, Corinne carefully took the scalpel from Toms's good hand, their skin brushing ever so slightly. Just like the last time their hands touched, the two of them jumped, as if their skin was electrically charged. Tom was never a fan of being touched, but when his hand touched Corinne's, it didn't feel _bad_ at all. In fact, deep down, he had the urge to "accidentally" graze his hand against hers again...

Dropping everything and abruptly standing up, his stool producing a loud scrape against the floor, Tom's gaze met Professor Slughorn's as he held up his injured hand, which was covered in blood, and said, "Sir, may I go to the hospital wing?"

The gleeful professor's face sunk, staring at Tom's hand worriedly like it was broken. "Yes, my boy! Go at once!

Before leaving, Tom muttered through gritted teeth to Corinne, "Finish the potion."

Then, sullenly, he stormed out of the classroom, his fists clenched at his sides with his nails digging into his palms. He could feel himself losing his temper. Instead of going to the hospital wing, he sped through the corridors, luckily avoiding teachers, to the Come and Go Room, his place of refuge for the past few weeks. He much preferred it than his dormitory. The hidden room presented itself, allowing Tom to slip inside unnoticed. It was a curious room, really, that changed form to suit the seeker's individual needs.

For Tom, the massive room was a grand bedroom with lavish black and dark green furniture. A king-sized bed was situated in a small area to the side, with a Slytherin green duvet, thick pillows, and black silken sheets. A large fireplace with a silver mantlepiece was the centerpiece of the room, emitting warm emerald flames around the room. A smaller version of a common room angled around the fireplace, with a dark green sofa and Tom's favorite green armchair. The most interesting and unique piece in the room was the silver serpentine chandelier above the sitting area.

It was certainly a room fit for a lord, and Tom thought it suited him perfectly.

He slumped down in his armchair, taking deep breaths through his nose to calm the anger boiling throughout him. Mixed emotions clouded Tom's brain, beginning to overwhelm him. He didn't even think it was possible for someone to feel _so many_ things at once. Tom despised feelings. He wasn't even supposed to have them.

Corinne was the one causing his constant confusion and lack of control of his emotions. Tom almost wanted to discontinue his plan and _obliviate_ the naive, yet intriguing, girl, just so she would never bother him and shift his focus again. He could create more Horcruxes without her. It wasn't even confirmed that the Carrow family possessed the object of Tom's desire. But here he was again, questioning himself.

He just couldn't get Corinne out of his head.

Growling in frustration, Tom ran his hand through his hair, hissing as his finger stung. Corinne had made him forget about his injury. Tracing his wand over his finger, muttering a healing spell to seal the cut, Tom then stared into the fire, hoping the flames would distract his mind from thinking of the girl who maddeningly occupied his thoughts.

No such distraction was found.

* * *

The next few days were the same routine. Corinne woke up earlier than everyone else, her back aching from sleeping on a cot, and after she dressed, she sneaked into the Great Hall and snatched some breakfast. She usually ate whatever she could grab on her way to her first class. Lessons proceeded without alterations or excitement, making them predictable and boring. After lessons, Corinne read in the library until dinnertime, where she grabbed whatever she could stuff in her bag before too many people arrived. After she did her homework and sneaked into the Prefects bathroom to bathe (some Prefects had loud mouths and didn't understand that passwords were _secret_ ), she went to sleep.

The same process repeated every day.

Then, about halfway through the month, a change began to happen.

On one particular day when Corinne was feeling ill, she didn't bother making her usual effort to sneak her meals out of the Great Hall. So, late that night, Corinne heard a familiar knock on the cupboard door, the same one she heard that night when her not-so-mysterious visitor brought her a sandwich. It'd been a while since that happened, and Corinne really expected that to be a one-time instance. But no, when she peeked her head out the cupboard door, she spotted the same kind of sandwich neatly placed on a plate, covered with a napkin. She desperately wanted to verbally thank Tom for the gestures he made, but was too embarrassed by the situation to do it.

Corinne's guilt only increased when those two kind gestures turned into three, then four, then everyday of the week. A week of late-night sandwiches turned into two weeks, until Corinne accustomed herself to the routine. Neither of them directly acknowledged what Tom had been doing for Corinne each night. All Corinne could do was nod to the mysterious boy knowingly, and Tom nodded back to her, as if he somehow knew that she was silently thanking him. These silent exchanges of "thank you's" and "you're welcome's" happened every day.

When Tom's good deeds persisted nearly to the end of the month, Corinne daringly slipped Tom a note, which read: _Although I highly appreciate it, you don't have to continue what you are doing. I can take care of myself._

Tom frowned the whole time he skimmed the short note, then quickly scribbled an even shorter reply: _What if I want to continue?_

Corinne didn't know what to make of what he'd written, and didn't write anything back. She could've sworn she saw Tom smirk in triumph, knowing he'd won their little dispute.

Were they some form of friends now? Corinne was not sure. Tom was doing an awfully kind thing for her everyday, something a friend would do for another friend. Whatever they had was more than just a mere acquaintance. Tom obviously cared enough about her to make sure she was fed everyday.

 _I'm just getting my hopes up_ , Corinne thought.

She just wished Tom Riddle were an easier person to talk to. If only she knew what he was thinking.

* * *

_23 October, 1943_

~~_I cannot get her out of my mind. Something must be gravely wrong with me._ ~~

_\- T.M.R_


	9. Tight Spaces

_October, 1943_

Though Corinne complained to herself and her diary about Hogwarts every day, there were times she enjoyed that she failed to realize sometimes. The holidays were always a splendid time, even for the loneliest and non-festive of people. Christmas was always an over-the-top occasion at Hogwarts, but a holiday that came in at a close second was, without a doubt, Halloween. Each Halloween was consistently grander than the previous one. That was a fact.

This year's festivities were expectedly glamorous, with huge floating pumpkins with candlelit faces, enchanted live bats fluttering from the walls, and ominous black clouds hanging low from the bewitched ceiling. That morning in the extravagantly decorated Great Hall, while Corinne was retrieving her breakfast of a muffin and two slices of bacon, she stopped to sniff the air, which smelled deliciously of baking pumpkin and various candies. She glanced around, figuring, _Maybe no one will notice me. What's the harm of eating in the Great Hall today like everyone else?_

Corinne carefully found a vacant area of the Slytherin table, as if the bench would creak and her invisibility would be ruined. She had just taken a fairly large bite of her muffin when she felt someone plop down beside her, causing her to jump like a startled cat and choke.

"Oh, terribly sorry!" said the girl beside Corinne, with vibrant hazel eyes, fair skin, and long, beautiful dark brown hair. Corinne recognized her as Euphemia Gates, a popular 6th year Gryffindor.

 _Why would she be talking to me, of all people?_ she thought, fidgeting uncomfortably in her seat, which Euphemia noticed and scooted away sheepishly.

"Are you new here?" Euphemia, who was much too friendly for Corinne's liking, asked, smiling. "I didn't know Hogwarts accepted transfers. My name is Euphemia, and you are?" She held out her hand for Corinne to shake, who stared at her like she was aiming her wand at her.

"Uh...Corinne," Corinne stuttered, then squinted in confusion. "I'm sorry but Euphemia, I'm not new here. I've been here since first year. We're even in the same Defense Against The Dark Arts class _this_ year."

Euphemia entire pale face reddened in embarrassment. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Corinne! I just haven't seen you around here before, that's all. You would think I would have noticed you at least once!" She chuckled nervously, looking anywhere but at Corinne.

 _Don't take it personally_ , Corinne thought, not very surprised that someone that she's known since first year claims to have never seem her before. _You're not the only one._

"It's alright," she replied softly, wanting to leave the Great Hall as soon as possible. Sitting in here was a terrible idea.

But Euphemia wasn't done yet. Corinne could tell she was one of those people who desperately wanted everyone to know and like her. She almost felt sorry for her at the moment.

"I came over here because you looked kind of lonely," Euphemia explained, offering a kind smile. "Would you like to come over to the Gryffindor table and sit with me and my friends? Don't worry, they're perfectly normal. Well, maybe Fleamont is an exception to that."

Corinne turned in her seat to follow Euphemia's gaze towards her 6th and 5th year friends. Staring back was a group of harmless-looking students. There was Fleamont Potter of Gryffindor, Euphemia's longterm beau, a quite handsome boy with untamed black hair, dark eyes, and a mischievous smirk permanently plastered on his face. Sitting next to Fleamont was Septimus Weasley, a freckled ginger boy with impish features that reminded Corinne of an elf. Across from Fleamont and Septimus were blonde twins Ludovic and Leona Lovegood of Ravenclaw, known for being a bit odd but very intelligent. Lastly, next to the twins was Augusta Longbottom of Gryffindor, a curly-haired, mousy girl who appeared very timid.

It was tempting for Corinne, stepping out of her comfort zone to join a group of her peers. She'd never been invited to sit with anyone before except her brother Cyrus, and the thought of trying and failing to socialize made her palms sweat. Corinne turned back around in her seat, whereas Euphemia was batting her eyelashes and waving her fingers at Fleamont flirtatiously, similar to the way girls acted when they crossed paths with Tom Riddle or Lestrange.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline your offer, Euphemia," said Corinne, snapping the lovesick girl out of her trance. "I appreciate you asking, though. Maybe another time."

Euphemia face fell in defeat and she frowned. "Are you sure? I can sit here with you, if you'd prefer that..."

"I want to be alone," Corinne told her, maybe a little too abruptly, which appeared to alarm the kind Gryffindor girl.

"I see," Euphemia said, it finally dawning on her that Corinne didn't want to talk. "Well, you can sit with us anytime you want. You're always invited."

When Corinne nodded, but didn't say anything, Euphemia sighed and walked back over to join her friends. She giggled loudly at something Fleamont and Septimus told her, filling Corinne with regret. Why couldn't she accept Euphemia's offer? She was _invited_ to join her and her friends for breakfast! Opportunities like that never came along.

So why was Corinne so afraid?

Yes, she suffered a great deal with social anxiety. The thought of being in a large group made her stomach lurch. But that didn't mean that Corinne didn't _want_ to socialize. She was just scared to. And that was incredibly frustrating.

Suddenly feeling vulnerable, Corinne gathered her bag in her arms and began her escape from the Great Hall. She kept her eyes trained on the exit, as if she were expecting it to get closer to her. She could feel everyone's eyes on her, or that may have been just irrational paranoia. Either way, her heart was still pounding rapidly. Why did the Great Hall have to be so large?

"Hey, Carrow!"

Corinne tensed upon hearing Olive Hornby shout at her, prompting her to walk faster. Although it was just Olive and her friends laughing, Corinne felt like the entire Great Hall was laughing at her. She couldn't prevent the tears from slipping out of her eyes as she finally made it into the Entrance Hall. Keeping her head down, she walked briskly until she was halted by someone, letting out a little squeal as she bumped into them. She looked up and nearly groaned; of course she had to run into a teacher while she was on the brink of a panic attack.

"Miss Carrow!" Professor Dumbledore said in surprise, running his hands over his slightly disarrayed auburn beard. "Better watch where you're going next time-" His teasing tone faltered when he got a better look at Corinne's appearance. "My dear, have you been crying?"

Corinne didn't trust many people. The only two people she truly trusted was Cyrus and her grandfather. But if she had to trust one person in this school, it was Professor Dumbledore. Unlike the rest of the teachers, he was the only one who saw her as a person and not just another one of his students.

"Would you like to talk about what's bothering you?" Dumbledore asked carefully, trying not to pry.

Corinne bit her lip and shook her head. "No, sir," she answered softly.

Dumbledore nodded unsurely. "Alright, then. But if you ever want to talk, Corinne, you know where to find me." He offered a warm smile before he walked past her towards the Great Hall.

Sighing, Corinne made the long journey up to the second floor to her broom cupboard. Luckily, Halloween fell on a Sunday this year, so she didn't have to worry about classes today. Right now, all she wanted to do was sleep. Doing her usual side-to-side check to make sure no one was watching, Corinne silently opened the door and slipped in the cupboard, shutting the door behind her and wiping away the remainder of her tears. She then leaned against the door, breathing in deeply through her nose and out her mouth for a few seconds.

"You've been gone for a while."

The sound of the deep male voice made Corinne let out a loud scream, which was quickly muffled by the intruder placing his large hand over her mouth. The cupboard was dark, so she couldn't see where she was swinging as she tried hitting the person. Her hand came in contact with a hard jaw, and she and her attacker both groaned. The person managed to seize Corinne's wrists in one of their hands and pin them to the wall, making her panic and squirm against their strong grip. Then she heard them mutter, " _Lumos._ "

When her attacker's identity was finally revealed, Corinne stopped squirming and froze. Tom Riddle's face was mere inches away from her. She gulped at their proximity, his hard gaze indistinguishable. Tom's eyes held mixed emotions that Corinne couldn't decipher. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he noticed their intimate position and immediately let go of her wrists and stepped backwards.

"You have an impressive punch, Carrow," Tom said amusedly, rubbing the side of his jaw. Corinne glanced down at her now red knuckles.

"You scared me," she replied, still breathless from him frightening her, or maybe at how close they were just mere seconds ago. "Why are you in here, anyway?"

Tom shrugged. "Just thought I'd pay you a visit, that's all."

 _Yeah, right._ Corinne crossed her arms over her chest. "Why are you really here, Tom?"

"You're smarter than I thought you were," said Tom, earning an offended look from Corinne, making him wave off his statement. "I came because I thought I was long overdo for a proper _thank you_."

Corinne squinted at him. "A thank you? For...?" Then it occurred to her. "Oh. But I've already thanked you, haven't I?"

"With meaningless head gestures, yes." Tom stepped a bit closer to Corinne, making her gulp again. Then he added lowly, "I want to _hear_ it."

Was he serious? Staring at him incredulously, Corinne couldn't help but chuckle. "Really? You sneak into my broom cupboard, scare the bloody hell out of me, and forcibly pin me to a wall, all because you want to hear me say 'thank you?'"

Tom nodded. "It's simple, really," he told her, smirking.

Corinne rolled her eyes. "You're unbelievable, Tom Riddle."

Suddenly, there was a knock on the cupboard door, making the two of them jump. Corinne's eyes widened in panic as she quietly backed away from the door. She looked to Tom, who held his finger to his lips.

"Is there someone in there?" a stern, female voice called from outside. She sounded like an adult, so she must have been a teacher. Corinne's heart filled with dread at the thought of the teacher barging in, catching her and Tom in the middle of a broom cupboard. They would certainly get the wrong idea.

"I know you're in there," said the teacher. Corinne could detect the impatience in her voice. "I heard your voices. Come out now and your punishment will be less severe. Obey or I'm coming inside."

Corinne started to panic, trying to calm her sporadic breathing. She looked desperately to Tom, who suddenly pulled her by the arm into a tight space behind the shelf situated at the back of the cupboard. Corinne's back was now against the wall, with Tom's body pressed completely against her. She was so close to him now that she could hear his heartbeat, which was surprisingly calm. Her heart rate was probably out of control.

"Calm your breathing," Tom breathed out almost inaudibly. Corinne nodded and forced herself to breathe through her nose, hoping she was silent enough.

" _Alohomora_ ," the teacher said, followed by the cupboard door flinging open. Corinne closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall, praying to Merlin they wouldn't get caught. She was uncomfortably crammed into the space behind the shelf, and felt like Tom's body heat was suffocating her. The teacher's shoes clacked against the floor as she stepped further into the cupboard, and even though Corinne couldn't see in the position she was in, she knew she teacher was searching for them.

She waited for the teacher to find them. But then their footsteps left the cupboard, proceeded by the sound of the door shutting. Corinne waited until she was sure the teacher was gone before she let out a sigh of relief, opening her eyes. Tom was already staring down at her, the same look in his eyes that he had when he had her pinned against the wall. His gaze was literally breathtaking.

Corinne began to feel uncomfortable. "Uh...Tom? Can we get out of here?" She gestured with her eyes down to their awkward and tight placement.

Tom did not budge. He seemed lost in a daze, studying Corinne's facial features. Her eyes, her nose, and down to her lips, where his gaze was now transfixed. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, as if he were unsure of what to do, yet he did not allow Corinne to move out of the position he had her trapped in. With him staring at her like that, Corinne momentarily forgot about their current situation, staring up at him until his eyes met hers.

"Tom?" Her voice failed to come out, sounding more like a pleading whisper.

Before Corinne could brace herself, Tom pushed her harder against the wall, if that were possible, and pressed his lips firmly to hers.


	10. Denial

_October, 1943_

Corinne's whole body stiffened as her back met the cold wall, and Tom's warm lips met hers. She was tempted to push him away and demand what on earth he was doing kissing her, but couldn't force herself to do it, closing her eyes and moving her lips with his. Her heart fluttered with delight, and could not stop the blissful hum from escaping her throat. Though Corinne had no experience with kissing, and she was almost positive Tom didn't either, everything in that moment felt completely natural. If this was what kissing always felt like, then she would kiss Tom _all day_ if she could.

But then she remembered her suspicions about him. Tom Riddle was not the same boy he was many years ago, and there was something, dare I say, _dark_ about him. But for some reason, this wariness about Tom did not alleviate Corinne's growing need to keep her lips against his. She had almost let all her inhibitions go, damning whatever apprehension she had about him, when she suddenly felt him pull away, the disconnection of their lips leaving Corinne slightly disappointed. When she finally opened her eyes, she saw Tom's inky blue eyes staring back at her, mixed reactions etching his expression.

Corinne couldn't tell if he was overcome with confusion, shock, ecstasy, or all of the above. With the poor lighting in the broom cupboard, it was difficult to tell for sure. So she gazed back at him, searching for any sign of any emotion that he seemed to lack. Corinne wondered what Tom was thinking. If he enjoyed the kiss, what he was feeling, _why_ he kissed her.

"Tom?" she dared to whisper, hoping to break their silence. Her own mind was reeling with thoughts and questions that she desperately wanted answered.

Tom then pushed himself away from Corinne, squeezing out from behind the shelf, and left the broom cupboard without any explanation. He didn't even glance back or say goodbye. Corinne didn't know how to feel about that.

For hours, all she could think about was the kiss. Tom had stolen her first kiss, then retreated immediately after it happened. Corinne should have felt great about herself, since not many girls got to say that they snogged Tom Riddle in a broom cupboard. But all she could think about was what the kiss potentially meant. Her lips continued to buzz as she pondered about the peculiar and handsome boy.

What could he possibly be feeling right now?

* * *

_What have I done?_

Tom sat hunched over on the sofa, staring into the green flames crackling inside the fireplace. The blazing inferno did nothing to lessen his thoughts of the girl he'd just kissed in a broom cupboard. Tom _despised_ himself for doing such a foolish thing. He didn't even fully understand why he'd done it. At one moment, they were pressed together behind a shelf, and the next Tom had her pushed against the wall, snogging her like he had _feelings_ for her...

_Feelings_. _Kissing. Love._ It was all so weak and disgusting.

Letting out a growl, Tom kicked the coffee table in front of him, sending it toppling over along with the books and supplies that were scattered on it. He didn't even care that his foot was radiating with pain and his belongings were strewn out messily before him. The thought of Corinne Carrow infuriated him, but at the same time filled his chest with a strange and unknown warm sensation that he could not perceive.

Why did he kiss her? Tom wasn't entirely sure. It was like his body had acted before his mind could stop himself. It was a mindless impulse that most likely had tarnished his plans to use Corinne to obtain what he wants more than anything; immortality. Now, the innocent girl whose huge eyes Tom could not get out of his head was plaguing the metaphoric wall he kept around himself to avoid situations such as this one.

_Immortality and power. All you want in this world is immortality and power. Not Corinne._

But the more Tom told himself this, the more his thoughts disobeyed. Much to his own dismay, he wanted more. But wasn't power the best thing in the world? Wasn't immortality what everyone secretly dreamed of? What could he possibly want more than that?

_Her_ name popped into his head.

* * *

_31 October, 1943_

_I cannot sleep. The thought of Corinne deeply bothers me. But in the midst of my thoughts about her, I realized that if my plan to deceive her were to work, she has to truly trust me. So far, friendship is not speeding up the process. Although, the kiss we shared may have meant a great deal to her, so much that she could even fancy me._

_I was hoping this would not happen, but as I thought long and hard about it, it may just work. If I pretend to be interested in Corinne, she just may fall for it. That would mean I could be that much closer to uncovering how to create my Horcruxes._

_Yes, it will be difficult. But if I am to succeed, I will need to make Corinne Carrow fall desperately and unconditionally in love with me._

_\- T.M.R._


	11. Note Passing

_November, 1943_

Even a few days in, the month of November was already proving itself to be even drearier than October. Seemingly, this was fitting. With the recent events that took place in Corinne's life, the gloomy outdoor atmosphere suited her demeanor well.

Corinne felt that she and Tom were back at square one, with neither of them on speaking terms ever since their kiss on Halloween. They couldn't even _look_ at each other. She had two theories. Either Tom was so completely disgusted by the mere sight of her that he didn't want to have anything to do with her again, or he was simply too uncomfortable to speak to her. Corinne really couldn't see him as the type to become embarrassed by _anything_ , so the odds of the second theory being plausible was low.

With the likelihood that Tom had now permanently removed himself from her life, Corinne was lonelier than ever. And she didn't think that was even possible.

Today was a typical drab Monday that no student in Hogwarts was particularly looking forward to. With a month until semester exams, professors were assigning homework in each class by the boatload. After a long weekend of writing five full parchments of a Potions essay and cramming for an upcoming Transfiguration quiz that she could not afford to fail, Corinne was in no shape to withstand seven hours of lessons. In fact, she was struggling to keep her head from falling onto her desk all during History of Magic. Just as she was about to drift off again, she heard a light _plunk_ sound below her and glanced down.

Someone had thrown a folded up note onto her desk.

Professor Binns was, of course, not paying any attention to the class and was facing the chalkboard, which gave Corinne the opportunity to peek behind her to find the culprit of the note. Everyone in the class was either asleep, chattering in small groups, or staring off into the distance. There were a select few who were trying to scribble everything down that Professor Binns was saying. Then there was Tom, who showed no expression or sign of fatigue as his hand moved across his parchment with fluidity. As if he sensed her looking, Tom glanced up. Corinne's heart leapt when her gaze accidentally met his.

She spun around as quickly as she could, almost losing her balance and falling out of her chair. Now _that_ would've been a catastrophe. She was suddenly out of breath, as if she'd just made eye contact with a Dementor that was beginning to suck out her soul. Each time Corinne blinked, she swore she saw the hue of Tom's deep blue eyes imprinted on the insides of her eyelids. The brief moment they just shared was the first time they had really looked at each other since _the incident._

Corinne was so busy momentarily fretting about Tom that she forgot about the note. Her fingers paused as she started unfolding the paper. _Could this be some sort of trick?_ She thought, pondering the possibilities. _Perhaps Olive and her friends sent me a Howler, or Jinxed the note somehow._

Her curiosity got the better of her. The note was opened before she could stop herself. Corinne's whole body froze.

_'Olive told me this morning you moved out of our dormitory to go live with the house elves that work in the kitchens. Is it really true?_

_I also heard you still fancy Riddle. Let me be the one to tell you that there is no chance that he will ever_ _be interested in_ _someone like you.'_

A familiar, obnoxious giggle from nearby made Corinne turn around. Drusilla Seymour, Olive Hornby's righthand woman in their group of friends, was whispering something into Alphard Black's ear, her red-painted lips sporting a smug expression as Corinne stared at her blankly. She was _not_ in the mood to deal with Olive or her brainless minions today. Especially Drusilla, the daftest one of them all.

Corinne managed to keep calm until the end of class. She kept her head down as Drusilla and the rest of the slackers who sat in the back passed her. Not very subtle about it, Drusilla swept her manicured hand across Corinne's desk and brushed everything laying on it onto the floor. None of the remaining students in the classroom batted an eyelash at this act of cruelty. The girl laughed as she exited the classroom, leaving Corinne in her state of disarray.

A massive mess laid around Corinne's desk. Her books, parchment, and quills were strewn about, and even a full bottle of ink had shattered from hitting the floor, splattering black ink everywhere, including all over Corinne's shoes. Sighing, she leaned down and began gathering up her items, not even caring that this would make her late for her next class. Just as she was about to grab her now ink-covered textbook, another set of hands had beat her to it, picking it up with grace and holding it out for her. Corinne recognized those pale, nimble fingers anywhere.

Without looking directly at Tom, she muttered, "Thanks," before reaching out to take her book from him.

"Wait," Tom said, pulling out his wand and pointing it to the book, whispering some sort of foreign incantation that cleaned all the ink off the book. He proceeded to do the same to everything else on the floor that was covered in ink, then muttered, " _Wingardium Leviosa,"_ to return everything onto the desk. Corinne sat in her seat, stunned.

"You're welcome, Carrow."

She finally looked up at Tom, who was gazing down at her amusedly. He seemed pleased to leave her so speechless. It reminded Corinne of how he treated her before they kissed. His typical arrogant, egotistic attitude towards her has returned. But why all of a sudden?

Before she could say anything, Tom beat her to it _yet again_. He held out a slip of paper for her and added, "Hall pass. Consider yourself lucky."

And with that, he strode out of the classroom without another word, leaving Corinne utterly dumbstruck. Looking at her, it would seem comical how her mouth gaped open and her eyes widened. No one has left such an effect on her like Tom Riddle has done. She was frustrated, yet completely entranced by him. He truly lived up to his namesake; a living riddle that was impossible to solve.

Drusilla's harsh words echoed in her mind: _Let me be the one to tell you that there is no chance that he will ever_ _be interested in_ _someone like you._

Corinne's focus was brought back to reality when student by student began walking into the classroom for the next class. Panic bubbled in her chest. There was no way she could avoid getting detention from Professor Merrythought. Unless...

The hall pass. Being a Prefect, Tom had the authority to hand out occasional hall passes to students in case of emergencies. A hall pass coming from Tom Riddle was extremely rare; he wasn't one to tolerate lateness. Corinne didn't have the faintest clue why Tom gave one to her, but she sure wasn't complaining. He'd helped her out more today than she ever thought he ever would in a lifetime.

Just to see if it was too good to be true, Corinne inspected the slip of paper for its authenticity as she made her way up the series of moving staircases to the third floor to Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. It seemed legitimate, with Tom's signature scrawled neatly at the bottom. For no real reason, Corinne flipped the paper over, and stopped in place. She had to blink several times to make sure she was seeing it correctly. But it was unmistakably Tom's handwriting. She recognized it from when they used to exchange notes.

The message was short, but it was enough to get Corinne's heart racing.

_'Meet me by the Black Lake at midnight. Do not be late.'_

_\- T.M.R._


	12. The Black Lake

_November, 1943_

Just to Corinne's luck, it was a dreadfully chilly night, which meant stepping outside was due to be an unpleasant experience. Bundled up in two gray Hogwarts jumpers, two pairs of wool socks underneath her boots, mittens, her dark green cloak, and her Slytherin scarf wrapped around her throat, it was still no match for the wind that pricked at every exposed patch of skin on her body. It was especially brutal on her legs, which were only protected by her long stockings and skirt that came down to her ankles. Corinne's mother refused to buy her trousers for wintertime, claiming it was unladylike and too masculine. Oh, how she wished times would change for women's fashion; skirts were so unpractical in weather like this.

Corinne checked her watch for the dozenth time since she left the broom cupboard. Nine minutes until midnight. She bit her lip, partly because they were chapped, also due to the worry of being late. _Why does it matter if I'm late?_ Corinne questioned herself. _It's not like this little meeting Tom asked me to attend means anything. Watch him not even show up._

But she knew it was pointless to try lying to herself. She was curiouser about why Tom asked her to meet him than she ought to be.

Corinne crept down another corridor, trying to control the chattering of her teeth as she surveyed her surroundings. She half expected to run into Filch, or even worse, the Headmaster, attempting to make it to this rendezvous. Surprisingly, the corridors were clear of anyone tonight. It just made sneaking around the castle that much easier.

_Look at me, mucking up the courage to break the rules by creeping around Hogwarts after curfew. My siblings would scoff in utter disgust if they knew how Gryffindor-like I was acting._

_All for a boy._

Corinne shook off that last thought, wanting to forget it ever crossed her mind. Was she really so fascinated by Tom Riddle that she would break the rules without hesitation, just to get an opportunity to talk to him again? She felt like one of the many desperate girls around the school who acted so foolish around Tom, just because they fancied him. But Corinne didn't fancy Tom; she just wanted to restore their friendship.

That was the case, right?

Finally, Corinne reached the southernmost point of the castle, goosebumps erupting all over her as she stepped outside, making her way down the sloped hill that lead to the edge of the great lake. Moonlight bounced off the surface of the water almost blindingly. Tonight was a full moon, and Corinne could picture it acting as a spotlight beaming down on her, revealing her presence to anyone who peered out one of the windows. She prayed to Merlin the blackness of the night was enough to camouflage her.

The rapid thumping of her heart was all she could hear as she approached Tom's chosen location by the lake. She shouldn't be this nervous. This was only Tom, someone she's known since they were eleven. But the Tom that existed today was not the same boy Corinne knew five years ago. Tom Riddle was now characterized by his stone exterior, brilliant aptitude in the art of wizardry, intimidating semblance, mysterious persona, and was just downright too intriguing for Corinne's own good.

Speaking of the devil himself...

Corinne's breath hitched and she came to an abrupt stop when she saw him. A tall, regal silhouette stood as straight as the tree he was beside, facing the massive body of water that stretched on for miles. His features were stark under the moonlight, outlining his strong jaw and angular cheekbones, strikingly pale white skin dramatized by the darkness of his hair that almost blended into the night, the gleam across the lake reflecting in his eyes...

The scene looked as though it needed to be captured in a painting.

Her eyes still locked on Tom, Corinne breathed in deeply and took a leap of courage. She willed herself to step forward, jumping when a dry leaf crunched loudly under her boot. Tom's gaze snapped in her direction. Corinne cursed under her breath, partly because of that damned leaf, partly because Tom's inky blue stare was startlingly intense.

"You're three minutes late." Tom spoke much loudly than Corinne anticipated, so much that she couldn't help but turn around towards the castle, expecting someone to come running out of it to catch them red-handed. She couldn't imagine what a teacher would think, seeing Tom Riddle, the star pupil of Hogwarts, out by the Black Lake after curfew with a girl whose name was unknown to almost everyone in the school.

"Sorry," Corinne replied, rushing to join Tom where he stood. He stared at her the entire time she made her way over, making her flush in embarrassment. "It took me a while to sneak down here. Had to make sure the corridors were clear."

"Oh."

"How did you get down here so quickly?"

Tom shrugged. "I have my ways. Come. Sit."

_What a strange request_ , thought Corinne. Though she obeyed. Tom led her to a nearby spot on the grass, where he had laid down a thin blanket, and the pair sat down together in synch, neither of them looking at each other. Corinne hugged her knees to her chest, her hands clutching her arms in an attempt to stay warm. Tom sat stiffly, his long legs stretched out to the end of the blanket and his hands remained in his lap.

The two sat in silence for a while, staring out at the lake. Corinne even tried counting the amount of ripples in the water to pass the time, waiting for Tom to say something to her. _Was this why he asked me to meet him here?_ She wondered. _To sit by him and stare at a lake? Did I expect too much of this?_

Corinne couldn't bear anymore of the lack of communication. If this was what Tom intended for them to do, then too bad. She didn't sneak all the way down here for this to occur.

At the same time that Corinne started to say, "Aren't you - ?", Tom began to say, "Are you - ?"

They turned to look at each other, slightly wide eyed. Tom inclined his head, a gesture meaning he wanted to Corinne to speak first. She gulped, having hoped he would have gone first instead.

"Well," she stated, "I was going to ask: Aren't you the least bit concerned that we're going to get caught out here?"

Tom shook his head. "We won't get caught, Corinne. I cast the _Muffliato_ charm, as well as a Concealment charm around the area. No one will know we're here."

_Of course he thought ahead. This is Tom Riddle I'm dealing with here._

"Clever," Corinne told him. Even in the dark, Corinne could see the amused smirk rise on his lips. Her heart fluttered, but she chose to ignore it. "What were you going to say before?"

Tom looked puzzled for a moment, then his face slackened as he understood. He was hesitant, looking away as he replied, "I was going to ask if you were cold."

Corinne couldn't believe what she was hearing. "What?"

"Don't make me say it again."

"I won't, I won't." She cleared her throat. "I'm just surprised, is all. I didn't think you would care about...such a thing." She wanted to say, _I didn't think you would care about my wellbeing_ , but held her tongue.

Tom cleared his own throat, clearly uncomfortable. "Well, are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Are you _cold?"_ Tom enunciated each word impatiently. Was he really having such a hard time being nice to her?

"Oh!" Corinne _was_ cold, but now she was blushing so hard in mortification at the situation, she almost felt the need to remove her scarf. "Well, I was, but now I'm alright..."

"You're shivering," Tom pointed out, his earlier insecurity suddenly replaced by his usual arrogance. "I thought we've been over this, Corinne. You're a terrible liar."

Corinne thought back to the day in Potions when they'd brewed their first potion together, when he'd called her a terrible liar then. The way he said it in both instances was serious with a hint of a teasing note. This time, he made her blush _terribly_. Thank Merlin it was dark. 

"Even if I was cold," Corinne said, hiding her face until her blush subsided, "What would _you_ do about it? It's freezing out here and you couldn't possibly-"

Tom cut her off. "What would I do about it?" He arched his back slightly and brought his shoulders back, and before Corinne could ask what he was doing, she realized that he was taking off his gray Hogwarts blazer. About to protest, she let out a small gasp as Tom leaned close to her, whispering huskily, "I would be a gentleman and offer you my coat," as he wrapped the blazer around her. His fingers remained on her shoulders for a few seconds longer than they should have stayed before he let go, shifting a few inches away from her and staring back out at the lake.

_What does he think he's doing?_ Corinne thought, her heart racing. _Doesn't he know the effect he has on me?_

"You didn't have to do that," she said softly, her voice shaky.

"I know," Tom replied, equally as soft. She could tell he had caught on to her double meaning. Then he brought his gaze back to her, and added, "But I wanted to."

Corinne stared at him, her lips parted, completely at a loss for words. Here he was again, leaving her in a state of discombobulation and allure. She ought to be used to this by now, having Tom speak to her and then somehow, her brain malfunctions and she's unable to process thoughts and emotions. Perhaps this was what being under the _Confundus_ charm felt like. If so, it was alarmingly overwhelming.

"I just remembered that I have homework I need to do before tomorrow," Corinne lied, knowing Tom could read right through her pitiful fib. "I'll see you in class, Tom."

She stood up, removing Tom's blazer from around her shoulders and dropping it by his side, turning and walking away as quickly as she could. Mentally she prayed that Tom wouldn't say anything else that would change her mind about leaving their meeting so soon. Though she didn't want to admit it, Corinne would much rather stay and talk to Tom some more, and maybe endeavor to solve the very puzzle that he was. But that was too risky. Anything Tom said to her- Tom _himself-_ affected her in ways she couldn't comprehend.

His silver-tongued words were much too enticing, and Corinne knew she shouldn't trust him as much as she desperately wanted to.

"When can we meet here again?"

The words made Corinne stop in her tracks. As much as her conscience was telling her to decline and keep walking, her body wouldn't move. Tom wanted to see her again. _Privately_ , like tonight. The question was, should Corinne ignore her vigilance, or throw caution to the wind and go against her better judgement?

She was going to regret this in the future.

"Same time tomorrow night."


	13. Routine Rendezvous

_November, 1943_

_"Same time tomorrow night."_

Little did Corinne know that by saying this, it would lead to not just one more midnight rendezvous with Tom, but _multiple_ ones. Somehow it had come to be routine. Neither of them had expected it to happen; it simply just did. At first they usually met once a week, then Tom suggested two days a week, then Corinne suggested three. They had taken turns requesting to see each other more, as though it were some sort of game.

One thing the two of them had discovered they had in common was that they both despised losing and watching the other gloat their victory. For instance, whenever one of them reluctantly asked to meet an extra day during the week, the other would take pride in the fact that they were missed. Unsurprisingly, Tom Riddle was a champion of this amusing game. Not that he seemed to mind, really. Corinne definitely didn't.

Eventually, the two lost count in who won or lost, focusing more on the overall prize, which was sneaking out after curfew nearly every night to meet by the Black Lake. The same time each night. This became as natural to Corinne as waking up every weekday morning and attending her lessons. Sure, she lost a couple of hours of sleep each night due to the meetings, but in the long run, it was worth it. She could finally call Tom her friend again.

They discussed the most random of topics during their meetings. Everything from their classes, professors, favorite spells, least favorite spells, and even students. Occasionally, the pair worked on homework together. Tom was the reason Corinne's Transfiguration and Potions marks were drastically improving. He really was an excellent tutor.

Although these secret midnight trysts meant a great deal to Corinne, she couldn't help but wonder why Tom Riddle, of all people, chose to spend time with _her_. Even if they used to be friends when they were younger, she was well aware that she wasn't dealing with the same boy anymore. Present Tom and past Tom, in Corinne's opinion, were entirely dissimilar beings. Besides, he wasn't the type of boy to seek any type of companionship with anyone, especially girls. She doesn't even think he's been in a serious relationship with one before.

So why was Tom so eager to develop a real, genuine bond after so many years of being alone? He even admitted that his "followers" were not his friends. It didn't make much sense, but then again, neither did him. In a way, Corinne found that to be one of his most magnetic qualities. Frustrating, yes, but appealing.

Just thinking about him seemed to ignite the apples of her cheeks.

Pinpointing Corinne's exact feelings about Tom was a lot like trying to describe a color without naming it. It always left her head whirling. Sweeping the topic under the mental rug in her mind couldn't be the solution forever. Somehow, it ended up creeping into her thoughts as she tried to sleep. She had to make sense of what was happening in her heart.

The flutters in her chest only grew stronger and more evident each time her eyes laid on Tom. She sometimes swore she could hear how hard her heart was pounding during their midnight meetings. _I wonder if Tom's heart is beating as much as mine_ , she had wondered several nights ago. But that was probably impossible. Tom was highly trained in the art of equanimity and control.

 _Unlike me_ , Corinne thought negatively. _I still don't know what he sees in me. If he sees anything in me at all._

Corinne lost track of the amount of wasted minutes she'd been absentmindedly brushing the feather of her quill across her cheek, trying to complete her Potions essay, when her thoughts drifted elsewhere. Elsewhere meaning _Tom_ , to be exact. That tended to happen a lot lately, as much as it brought her shame to admit. If she could just concentrate on anything else...

Suddenly, the soft sound of flittering paper filled the still air of the library, catching Corinne's attention. _So much for concentrating_. A small paper airplane glided into her sight, obviously charmed by someone, easing its way straight to her table. It landed with a light _thump_ on top of her books. Corinne was currently the only student in the library besides the librarian.

A pang of dread filled her. The last time she'd been given a note, it was from Drusilla Seymour. Corinne wished she could forget about the cruel words the girl had written to her. Could this note be from her again, from one of Olive's minions, or maybe from Olive Hornby herself? Then, with a jolt of excitement, Corinne realized that there was a possibility that it could perhaps be from...

Indeed, it _was_ from him. She instantly recognized his handwriting as if it were her own. ' _To: Corinne'_ was scrawled on one of the wings of the paper airplane.

Unfolding it, she discovered that this time, the note was in an envelope. _How crafty of him_ , Corinne thought, smiling. She impatiently ripped open the seal of the envelope with the point of her quill, fishing a small slip of parchment out of it. Her eyes carefully scanned over Tom's quick message, sending her heart leaping into her throat.

_'Meet me by the broom cupboard right now. You know which one.'_

_\- T.M.R._

Was he seriously asking her to meet him in _her_ broom cupboard _during the day?_ Tom rarely spoke to her, or acted like he wanted to have any association with her, outside of their routine midnight rendezvous. So the fact that he requested to see her now was shocking. What in the world did he want to say to her that couldn't wait until tonight?

Leaving her belongings strewn out on the table, too curious and adrenalized to care, she made her way out of the library, adjusting her hair as she walked. Before she stepped out the door, she forced herself to take a few deep breaths.

_Get ahold of yourself, Corinne. This is just like all the other times. It isn't anything new._

Feeling composed enough, she stepped into the semi-busy corridor, and there he was. Of course Tom was standing coolly against the wall beside the broom cupboard doorway, his arms folded as he casually surveyed the passing students. Their gazes met, causing Corinne to inhale sharply. She could never get well accustomed to the intensity of his eyes. There was no telling what he was thinking inside that brilliant mind of his.

Corinne started to cross the corridor, but halted when she saw Tom's warning glare. After a moment of confusion, she realized what he wanted her to do. She was meant to wait until there was no one in sight. Tom didn't want anyone to see them entering the broom cupboard together. Part of her felt hurt that he was so ashamed to be seen with her, but she also didn't want there be any unnecessary rumors spreading around.

Finally, one last student rounded the corner, and the corridor was clear. Corrine saw this as her opportunity to make her way over to Tom. Breathing in deeply again -she didn't know why she she felt the need to do this every single time she approached him- Corinne willed herself to stride across the floor, each step bringing her closer to talking to Tom again. His eyes were trained on her. Crossing the corridor felt like trudging through thick mud to reach him.

They now stood side-by-side. Corinne swore she could feel electricity crackling between the short distance that separated them. He _had_ to feel it too. Unresolved tension existed between the two, without a doubt. It was something deeper than a bond among friends.

"Here," Tom muttered, holding out a book for her to take. "I hear more students coming. Take this and pretend you're reading it. And don't stand too close to me."

Corinne obeyed without hesitation. She took the book- his Charms textbook- and cracked it open down the middle, skimming a random section about memory charms. She also side-stepped, well away from Tom that people wouldn't assume they were standing next to each other. She waited a good minute or so, sneaking peeks over Tom's book at the few students passing them. Then, when the corridor was once again clear, Tom cleared his throat.

By the time Corinne looked over at him, he had already opened the cupboard door a crack, gesturing for her to follow before slipping inside. She obliged, glancing in both directions before entering, shutting the door as silently as she could behind her. The broom cupboard was pitch black, and Corinne fumbled through her robes to locate her wand to turn on a light. But, as expected, Tom beat her to it.

 _"Lumos."_ Corinne could almost picture the incantation forming on his lips from the many times he'd cast that spell at the Black Lake.

Light immediately illuminated the tiny room, causing each of them to squint. When their eyes adjusted, their gazes met, and Corinne couldn't stop her blush from blooming. Just like the first time they'd been in here together, Tom was standing very close to her.

"Hi," Corinne said feebly, tucking her hair behind her ear in a shy manner.

The hair fell back in place, prompting Tom to reach out and tuck it back. His fingers inadvertently brushed against Corinne's cheek, causing both of them to freeze. She's _never_ been touched this tenderly before; not even from her own mother.

Tom quickly brought his hand away. "I'm sorry."

Corinne couldn't stop herself from asking. "Why did you want to see me?"

"Because," Tom said matter-of-factly, suddenly regaining his confidence. Then his hands found her waist in one quick motion, and before Corinne could react, he brought her body close to his.

And then they were kissing.

She never imagined this would be happening again. The first time, it was such an astonishment that Corinne barely had time to process what Tom was doing. Now, that was also the case, but Corinne was able to snap out of her state of shock and react to the kiss much faster. Their previous kiss was full of uncertainty and experimentation. Now, it contained nothing but raw passion and longing.

Much too soon, Tom pulled away, his hands still on her waist. It certainly wasn't surprising that she was rendered speechless. Luckily, Tom didn't have this problem.

Almost nose-to-nose with her, he whispered, "I have something to attend to tonight so I can't meet up. Hopefully that will hold you over until tomorrow tonight."

Corinne raised an inquisitive brow. "What makes you think I can't handle one night without seeing you?"

Tom chuckled amusedly, and with a wave of his wand, extinguished the light in the room, startling Corinne. The door to the cupboard opened, and before Tom exited, he replied to her question, "Oh, I _know_ you can't."

With that, he left, shutting the door behind him and leaving Corinne to reflect in the darkness.


	14. Seven Horcruxes

_25 November, 1943_

_For the past couple of weeks, my proposition to get closer to Corinne so she will trust me has succeeded. Originally, I only intended to meet up with her at the Black Lake once or twice, but I did a bit of tinkering to the plan. Never did I- or she- expect for us to be meeting almost every single night. I can conclude that her reliance and, dare I say,_ infatuation _with me has grown considerably. All I have to do is kiss her and she turns to putty in my arms._

_A foolish, lovesick girl, Corinne is._

_And yet, I regrettably admit that our many midnight rendezvous have proven not to be a nuisance to me, but rather a leisure. A leisure that I find pleasant. My focus should be towards deceiving her. I must keep my goal in mind._

_Tonight, instead of meeting Corinne, I am taking a great risk. It may or may not benefit me as I hope, but I must try. Obtaining the last bit of information I need about Horcruxes is crucial to my progression._

_I must know if it is truly possible to split my soul again. And I know just the person who can provide me with the validity I seek._

_\- T.M.R._

* * *

After what occurred earlier that day in the broom cupboard with Tom, receiving a kiss that _still_ left Corinne weak in the knees, it was very hard to concentrate on any other task. Which is why she had just now finished her Potions essay, with an hour until curfew to spare. Slughorn had given the class a couple of days to work on their essays on Golpalott's Third Law regarding antidotes, the deadline being tonight after dinner. That meant she _had_ to get her finished essay to Slughorn's office before curfew. For lateness, and the fact that she had put forth only half the effort on it- thanks to a specific _someone_ \- Corinne could most likely slide with an _Acceptable_ mark _._

She, along with a few last minute studiers, currently occupied the library. Even though the room was still open, it was obvious that the librarian was eager to retire to her living quarters for the night. A couple of students would not stop yawning, causing a chain reaction of yawns throughout the library. Corinne herself was fighting to keep her eyes open. It took a considerable deal of willpower to urge herself to stand and head towards Slughorn's office to turn in her essay.

_Merlin, why did it have to be so far?_

Though curfew was creeping up on them, several drifters still lingered in the corridors. Among those were students returning to their dormitories, couples swinging their intertwined hands to and fro as they continued their evening strolls, and Prefects reporting to their stations for patrolling. Corinne kept her head down as she walked, hoping by doing so that nobody would see her. She really wasn't in the mood to be bothered.

Unfortunately, to Corinne, Professor Slughorn's office was located all the way up on the sixth floor. She took the normal route up the main staircase, which was littered with students migrating up and down it. Her eyes stayed down, watching her feet clomp up the stone steps. She took note of her shoes, where a few splatters of ink still dotted them from the incident with Drusilla a few weeks back. The memory made her cringe.

The sixth floor seemed to take a decade to reach. The corridor was completely deserted, lit by dimming lamps hanging from the ceiling and luminous moonlight from the few windows lining the walls. Pillars cast long sideways shadows across the floors, which Corinne counted as she treaded onwards. She turned left once she reached the large blank wall at the end of the corridor- it seemed like a room should be located on the other side of this wall; it was quite the wasted space- where Slughorn's office was in sight. But now she wasn't alone. Voices were approaching.

Five teenage boys, all appearing to be fifth or sixth years in stature and age, filed out of Slughorn's office one by one, chatting amicably amongst themselves. Corinne had arrived at the tail end of a Slug Club meeting. Gathering up courage, she walked past the boys as they headed in the opposite direction. One of the boys trailed slightly behind, his head down as he was adjusting his blazer. She recognized him instantly by his hair color- Abraxas Malfoy, a Slytherin in her year, and one of Tom's "followers." As if he knew she was looking at him, Abraxas looked up, his eyes locking with Corinne's.

She had to suppress a gasp. His features were startling at first glance, with a sharp jawline, pointed nose and chin, a face whiter than Tom's in comparison, and most prominent of all, narrowed eyes the color of pure steel and blond hair that was almost ivory. With such harsh features, he did not look very friendly. According to rumors, he was supposedly with a new girl every week or two. Corinne wanted nothing to do with Abraxas Malfoy.

The two held eye contact briefly, and to her surprise, Abraxas smirked and gave Corinne a teasing wink as he passed her. She couldn't stop herself from blushing in mortification.

Shaking off what just happened, she arrived to a stop at Slughorn's office, and was about to lightly rap her knuckles against door, left open a crack, when she froze. A smooth voice was speaking to Professor Slughorn. A voice laced with the perfect amount of charm, persuasion, and curiosity. His identity was unmistakable. Ever so carefully, Corinne inched her face towards the small opening of the door, peering inside.

She could not see Slughorn and Tom themselves, but their shadows. Judging by the tone of their voices, it was a tense conversation. Corinne did her fair share of eavesdropping throughout her life, having five siblings to practice the skill on. It was something she could never resist doing. Positioning her ear close to the door, she listened intently to what Slughorn and Tom were saying.

"You must understand that the soul is supposed to remain intact and whole. Splitting it is an act of violation, it is against nature." Slughorn's voice was uneasy, as if he was uncomfortable.

"But how do you do it?" Tom, on the other hand, sounded eager and hungry for knowledge.

"By an act if evil- the supreme act of evil. By committing murder. Killing rips the soul apart. The wizard intent upon creating a Horcrux would use the damage to his advantage: He would encase the torn portion-"

_What a curious topic_ , Corinne thought. She had never heard of the term 'Horcrux.' But clearly, according to Slughorn's description, it was something very dark.

Her attention was brought back to the conversation when Slughorn raised his voice. "There is a spell, do not ask me, I don't know! Do I look as though I have tried it- do I look like a killer?"

Corinne's eyes widened. She had _never_ heard Professor Slughorn speak that way towards Tom. The man admired him more than any student at Hogwarts. What had Tom said or done to upset him so quickly?

"No, sir, of course not," she heard Tom say. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean to offend..."

"Not at all, not at all, not offended," said Slughorn, though Corinne could infer that he didn't mean this truthfully. "It's natural to feel some curiosity about these things... Wizards of a certain caliber have always been drawn to that aspect of magic."

The thought of that "aspect of magic" he was referring to was enough to send a shiver down Corinne's spine. Why was Tom interested in knowing about this kind of stuff, anyway? It couldn't just be because of mild curiosity.

"...I mean, would one Horcrux be much use? Can you only split your soul once?" Tom was asking questions very fast and very urgently. "Wouldn't it be better, make you stronger, to have your soul in more pieces, I mean, for instance, isn't seven the most powerfully magical number, wouldn't seven-?"

"Merlin's beard, Tom! Seven!"

_Merlin's beard, indeed!_ Corinne couldn't subdue her gasp from escaping her lips at Tom's utter audacity. Thankfully, she made no sound. What has come over him? It was as though he was thinking of pursuing such a terrible endeavor; to split his own soul into not one, but _seven_ pieces.

But surely, that could not be possible. Only a madman would believe that doing something that requires murdering people just to rip their soul apart multiple times would make them invincible. Tom couldn't _possibly_ be capable of such a scheme.

_Or could he?_ said a small voice in the back of Corinne's mind. _Maybe you don't know him as well as you thought._

What Corinne had just overheard was almost too much for her bear. Not bothering to listen to the rest of their conversation, she eased away from the door, placing her essay in front of it before retreating away, breaking into a run when she was well away from hearing distance. Her heart was pounding against her ribcage, anxiety overcoming her.

_He's just curious_ , Corinne told herself. _He's curious about the unknown, as always, and there's nothing else to it. Tom would never think to create a Horcrux. Not my Tom. He's not a murderer._

The gnawing feeling in her gut argued the latter option. Though her heart kept denying it.

Sleep did not come easily that night. Corinne kept wondering more about Horcruxes, wanting to know why they sparked Tom's interest so badly. Perhaps there was a book about them in the library. She also debated on confronting Tom about his conversation with Slughorn, but that would give away the fact that she was eavesdropping. They were on such good terms now, and Corinne preferred if it would stay that way.

She thought about her and Tom's undefined relationship; the first time their hands touched, the way he looked at her, their midnight meetings, the two kisses they've shared...

A single question crossed her mind: _What have I gotten myself into?_


	15. Astronomy Tower

_December, 1943_

The first blizzard of the year had finally dawned on Hogwarts the night prior, blanketing layers upon layers of fine powdery snow across campus. The lake resembled a sheet of glass and the soaring gray mountains surrounding the castle were nearly completely white. In the distance, the Whomping Willow could be seen twisting and shaking the snow off its branches, shuddering as if the tree felt the bitter chill of the air. Clusters of students gathered in the courtyard, taking advantage of the wintery weather by running and pelting each other with snowballs. It was a beautiful, serene sight, although Corinne was never particularly fond of the cold.

Which was why she was perfectly happy in her temporary hideaway in the Astronomy Tower. The library, her habitual refuge, was unusually full for a Saturday. And Corinne felt the need to branch out from the broom cupboard; it wasn't a very cheery place to stay for hours at a time. If anything, it was a perpetual reminder of her cowardice and tendency to run away from her troubles. She wished she had to nerve to move back into her old dormitory.

But that meant having to endure Olive Hornby and her equally wicked roommates. Corinne didn't know if she could put herself through that daily torture again.

Sighing, putting aside her trace of negative thoughts, she picked up a book from the library out of the pile of them beside her that she brought up to the Astronomy Tower with her and studied the title: _Magick Moste Evile_. This volume was dusty and bound in cracked and aged dark green leather, the thin pages inside loose from the spine. The letters embroidered onto the outside of the hardback gleamed a rusty gold. The book would have been a beautiful antique if not for the ominous subject matter the title clearly depicted. Corinne felt wrong holding it in her hands.

With a bit of persuasion and lying, she had managed to check out five books concerning the Dark Arts from the Restricted Section. Hogwarts's librarian was surprisingly pliable. Requesting not one, but _five_ books about Dark Magic was anything but subtle, Corinne now realized, but ever since she overheard Tom and Professor Slughorn's conversation in his office a few nights back, she was overcome with a hunger to know what Tom wanted to know. She wanted to understand Horcruxes, so that she could come close- not completely, because that could only be accomplished by a miracle worker, but hopefully _close_ \- to understanding Tom. There was more to him than what he appeared to be; Corinne was sure of it.

She thumbed through the thin, yellowed pages of the book, anticipating for the word _Horcrux_ to pop out at her. When she found it, her heart leaped with excitement, but soon deflated from the lack of information.

" _Of the Horcrux,_ " she mouthed, skimming her finger under the sentence, " _Wickedest of magical inventions, we shall not speak nor give direction..._ "

And that was it. Horcruxes received only a brief mention in the entire book, details of what the objects were nonexistent. Aggravated, Corinne huffed and dropped the book with a loud _thwack_ beside her, grimacing at the noise she did not mean to make. Anyone near the Astronomy Tower could have heard it. Then she would get into trouble for sneaking up and hiding in here, like many other students did, usually to meet up with their beloveds or to snog.

Corinne decided to leave before risking the chance of being caught. Just as she finished shoving her books in her bag, she heard the sound of feet climbing the steps of the tower, making her freeze in mid-motion. They continued up the steps until they emerged from the shadows. Her whole body slackened in relief.

"What is with you and hiding in prohibited places?"

Corinne couldn't help but giggle as she gave Tom an amused look. "Who said I was hiding? And how did you know I was up here?"

"You're alone far too often," countered Tom, stepping fully into the room, ignoring her second question. He wore his everyday outfit consisting of his school uniform and gray blazer, minus his robes. The more Corinne thought about it, she realized that she couldn't recall ever seeing Tom wearing anything but a Hogwarts uniform.

She was taken aback by his reply. "No I am not! I spend a lot of time with _you_."

Tom chuckled, striding over to the window and leaning on the sill on his elbows. "If I'm the only person you spend time with, then that goes to prove how socially inept you are."

Corinne scoffed and crossed her arms. "Look who's talking! You hate everyone!"

"Hate is a strong word. The students in this school are just too foolish for my taste."

"That is the most pompous thing I have ever heard come out of your mouth."

Tom grinned. "If that's so, then you clearly don't know me well enough."

"Yes I do!" she protested, sounding childish. Corinne felt her frustration growing. Bickering with Tom Riddle was pointless.

"Then when is my birthday?" Tom asked, his smirk broadening. Clearly he was expected her not to know.

"The 31st of December." Corinne held her chin high and proud.

His smirk disappeared, instead replaced by a look of surprise. "How do you know that?"

She chuckled. "We _were_ friends once before. Of course I remember."

Their gazes met, and Corinne realized what she just said and blushed. There was plenty of truth to her words. Tom had meant a lot to her back then, and he still did, so something as simple as his birthday was hard to forget.

"I remember yours too," Tom said, his eyebrows furrowed and his tone questioning, as if he were wondering to himself.

Corinne blinked. She never imagined he would care enough to remember her birthday, or anyone else's. "Y-You do?"

He nodded. "The 20th of May."

She stared at him, stunned. He really _did_ know her birthday. Not even half of her family knew it. At that moment, she was tempted to envelop Tom in a hug, but decided he probably wouldn't appreciate that.

"Tom..."

Footsteps suddenly began clomping up the staircase. Corinne's eyes widened with panic, while Tom, of course, remained composed. Before she could rush to hide, he had already pulled her behind a dark wall near the staircase. _Brilliant_ , Corinne thought. Whoever was heading up the tower would most likely pass them.

Just like she did in the broom cupboard when they'd almost gotten caught, she held her breath as multiple footsteps entered the room. From their positions, Tom was the only one who could peek out from behind the wall. Corinne stood beside him, her shoulder touching his. She was not pressed up against him face-to-face like last time. Guiltily, she wished the space they were in was smaller.

"Someone was here, Claudia," said one of the people who had set foot in the room, their voice clearly young and male. Corinne concluded the intruders were students. "Look. A bag."

She tensed. _Her schoolbag_. She had left it laying on the floor. Even in the dark, she could see Tom's jaw clenched, annoyed by her mistake as she was.

One of the students sighed. "Let's just find somewhere else private to go," said a girl, who the boy had called Claudia.

Claudia and her companion began to leave, making their way back down the steps. Corinne exhaled in relief, slouching against the wall. Her eyes flickered to Tom, who had done the same thing. Then he turned his head and looked at her.

That's when Corinne noticed that they were closer than she had estimated. She could feel Tom's breath on her face. It smelled minty; her favorite scent. She couldn't help but glance at his tempting lips, momentarily curious if his mouth tasted as good as it smelled...

She cleared her throat, gesturing at their familiar placement. "Déjà vu, huh?"

Tom said nothing, his gaze fixated on her. His deep blue eyes bore into hers, as if he were reading her like a book. He was looking at Corinne the way every girl at Hogwarts desired to be looked at by Tom Riddle. His stormy eyes captured her attention in a hypnotic trance. Tom's lips parted as though he were about to speak, then abruptly pressed them back together.

"Tom?" Corinne brought her hand up and gently placed it on his arm.

He went rigid, finally tearing his gaze away from her. Something was wrong. Tom looked troubled, as if their lock of eye contact had brought a terrible realization upon him.

Before Corinne could say anything else, he turned away, then proceeded to hastily storm out of the room.


	16. Legilimency

_December, 1943_

Tom slammed the doors to the Come and Go Room (he really needed to find another name for it) unceremoniously with such force, the silver serpentine chandelier dangling from the ceiling broke free of its support hook, crashing to the floor and sending shards of glass and metal everywhere. Despite the resonating impact, it didn't phase him in the least bit. He continued into the room, nonverbally casting a spell that gathered up the demolished chandelier and pieced it back together in its original state. Tom stopped before the fireplace, which seemed to sense his presence and flickered to life. Staring into the emerald flames had a calming effect on him, and was also a good place for thinking and devising schemes, which he was currently doing.

The source of his utter unsettlement at the moment had started when he was up in the Astronomy Tower with Corinne just mere minutes ago. The girl had an curious inclination to hide and isolate herself, to which Tom did not understand. She was not at all shy around him, but around her other peers, she had no desire to interact with them. Tom could relate, for the majority of the students in the school were not worthy of his association. But Corinne was different; she did not seek superiority as he did.

He wasn't well informed on the foreign creatures that were females, but weren't they all sociable and chatty? That's how they all seemed here at Hogwarts, minus Corinne. Companioning herself appeared to be the last thing on her mind. Why was she so different from other girls? Why was she so afraid to be seen and prove her worth to the world?

 _Why are you so concerned about her wellbeing?_ Tom's mind countered.

He clenched his fists. Tom hated being so confused. And he wasn't even sure what he was _confused_ about. Was he questioning his plan again? Was it about his lack of knowledge about Corinne? Was it about his sudden presence of newfound emotions that he could not make sense of?

Was it about whether he should continue using Corinne for his plan or punish her when she has _betrayed_ him?

Tom had made the troubling discovery when they were hiding behind the wall in the Astronomy Tower. The two of them were standing very close together, as they had done in the broom cupboard on Halloween, normally at a proximity that he would never allow from another person. Strangely, he did not mind it. Tom seized the opportunity, for whatever reason, to study Corinne and her mannerisms. His eyes scanned her face and found features he had never noticed before, starting from her hairline where signs of her natural blonde hair still existed, her short nose, her flushed cheeks, a faint scar on the side of her mouth, her slightly parted full rosy lips, then back up to her eyes...

Originally, Tom had always thought Corinne had brown eyes. In his opinion, they were much too large for her face, making her appear permanently nervous. But when he examined them more closely, he realized he was wrong about their color. Instead of plain brown, Corinne's eyes were a rich, dark hazel with the vaguest traces of green and gold specks. It was as though an entirely new color had been created just for her irises.

Her eyes swam with a mixture of emotions that Tom couldn't decipher. _What could she possibly be thinking?_ he had wondered. Then, he had an idea. A risky one, but his curiosity was much too powerful.

Legilimency was a newly acquired skill of his. Tom rarely used it, mainly because of his lack of caring for other people's deepest thoughts and feelings. Although he had used it on Professor Dumbledore, only to find out that the old man was suspicious of him. It irritated Tom greatly. How dare that old loon think such accusations about him!

Even if some of Dumbledore's hunches were true, he had no right to delve into Tom's personal matters.

Anyway, so yes, Tom had decided to use his gift on Corinne. Invasion of her privacy was none of his concern. He fixated his gaze on her eyes, which had flickered down to his lips. Tom almost had to resist smirking.

"Déjà vu, huh?" Corinne had said, but he ignored her.

Tom did not break his concentration as he slipped past the barriers surrounding her mind. He only had the chance to get a brief peek of her thoughts so she wouldn't notice. As a newly mastered Legilimens, he found he was able to discreetly navigate a person's mind without their knowledge, but only for a few seconds. At that moment, Corinne showed no sign of resistance or realization of what was transpiring. Her cluelessness made delving into her innermost thoughts all the easier.

Entering Corinne's mind was like diving headfirst into an icy lake at first, then Tom reached her thoughts and found they were a jumbled, swirling blizzard. It was nearly impossible to interpret everything he saw in that short time. He was then hit with a wave of heat, then cold, then brightness, then darkness, then a mixture of all sorts. It was Corinne's feelings; a roaring mixture of fear, anxiety, joy, passion, and something else he couldn't decrypt. Oddly enough, most of her positive emotions occurred when she was with _him_.

Everything she felt was more intense than Tom had ever experienced in his lifetime.

Then, a flash of an image passed across his field of vision. This must be one of her memories, he had registered. Corinne was still oblivious to the invasion of her mind, but that wouldn't last much longer.

What Tom saw was Professor Slughorn's office. When had Corinne been there? The sliver of the memory was in her point of view, where she seemed to be peering inside the room. The scene was hazy, but Tom could still see Slughorn speaking with a tall figure who had their back turned. Tom inhaled sharply when he grasped what he was seeing.

_"Merlin's beard, Tom! Seven!"_

"Tom?" Corinne was the one who broke the connection by touching his arm, producing a jolting sensation across his skin, and brought Tom out of his reverie. Processing what he'd just seen, he left the room as quickly as he could, wanting to get as far from Corinne as possible before his anger made him explode.

 _She knows about Horcruxes_ , he thought, gritting his teeth. _Not only that, but she eavesdropped on a private conversation that she had no right to hear. How dare her! Who does she think she is? When I see her again, I'm going to-_

Tom, who was seething, returned his focus back to the fireplace again. He clenched and unclenched his fists, his jaw set so tightly that it hurt. Besides Muggles, there was nothing he looked down upon more than the act of betrayal. And the worst part was that he otherwise would have never expected it from Corinne. He hated being surprised and caught off guard.

He didn't even know how to handle the situation, and that further fueled the burning inferno of rage surging inside him.

If it were anyone other than Corinne, Tom wouldn't think twice about killing or torturing them. He would have reveled in their screams of agony and cries of mercy. But imagining Corinne in their place made him falter. Thinking of her in any kind of pain- or even worse, _dead_ \- delivered a sharp pang in his chest. Tom let out a growl as he grabbed a jar containing magical herbs off the mantle, hurling it into the nearby wall.

He detested anything that took charge of his emotions, something he worked so hard to contain. Corinne was the one problem he could not bear to resolve with a flick of his wand. She was something beyond his control.

Part of Tom cared for her deeply, and he _despised_ it. He despised himself for stooping low enough to have such feelings- feelings that weren't supposed to exist. But at the same time, it didn't feel wrong.

As much as he hated coming to terms with it, Tom could not bring himself to loathe Corinne Carrow. He felt something else for her.

Something that he was desperately trying to deny.


	17. You

_December, 1943_

Evidence that the Christmas season was upon Hogwarts was apparent even to the most oblivious set of eyes. Being the middle of December, it seemed everyone was eagerly counting down the remaining days until the twenty-fifth. This was especially true for Corinne; more than usual, she was looking forward to the most wonderful time of the year. Having spent her previous Christmases with her judgmental family- which was never a particularly jovial time- for once, this year would be different. After a remarkably lacking amount of persuasion to her parents via letter, they agreed to let her remain at Hogwarts for Christmas.

This did not strike Corinne as a surprise that her parents were so indifferent about their youngest child not coming home for Christmas, of all occasions. But the Carrow family was not ordinary when it came to festive customs. Gift exchanges, for as long as Corinne could remember, were usually limited where each member of the family received at least one present, which usually ended up being a considerable sum of money. Scarcely did anyone in the Carrow household go all out for the holidays. Corrine's parent's idea of raising their six children was to mold them into practical, successful citizens of the wizarding community, just like them.

Partaking in Christmas apparently didn't meet their standards of living.

As the black sheep of the family, of course Corinne felt the need to celebrate without her family's prejudice and haughty ways. Hogwarts was perfectly adequate to do so.

Just as she did on Halloween, she observed the Great Hall while piling her plate with breakfast foods. The hall looked absolutely magnificent. Swathes of holly, mistletoe, and vibrant red poinsettias adorned the stone walls. Professor Dumbledore and Professor Slughorn had set up a dozen Christmas trees around the room, each decorated with an array of colorful glass ornaments and lights, topped off with either a magically animated angel or twinkling star. A light dusting of snow fell from the enchanted ceiling, disappearing before it could hit the tables.

Inhaling, Corinne could smell various holiday-related aromas such as burning wood from the roaring fireplace, roasting chestnuts, the bark of the fir trees, wax from the candles floating above her, and most unmistakably of all, Tom Riddle's cologne as he suddenly sat down across the table from her, causing an uproar of jitters in the pit of her stomach.

"I must say," he said, leaning forward on the table on his elbows. "I was not expecting you to be here."

Corinne raised an eyebrow. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"Well for one, you're sitting in my spot. This area of the Slytherin table has been reserved for me and my comrades since we were merely second years." Tom held up his hand before she could interrupt him. "And you and I both know where you run off to during any opportunity for human interaction like a dog with its tail in between its legs."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Corinne retaliated, offended.

"You're a coward," Tom said simply, a touch of amusement interlaced in his twisted words. "That is what I mean."

Corinne's cheeks ignited, partly from anger and partly from mortification. Where was _this_ coming from? Although they hadn't met privately in almost a week, their last meeting in the Astronomy Tower still left her dazed. The way Tom had looked at her with such intensity remained embedded in her mind, as well as the way he briskly fled the room for some unknown reason. Was this a ramification from that incident?

"I'm a coward? Well, you're a-"

"Tom!" Professor Slughorn beamed, tottering over to where they sat. Lucky for Corinne; he stopped her mid-sentence before she could say something to Tom that she would surely regret.

"Good morning, Professor," Tom greeted, inclining his head in a respectful manner. Corinne fought the urge to gag.

"Ah, yes, good morning!" said the professor, chuckling. Per usual, he did not acknowledge Corinne's presence. "I trust you are well prepared for my semester exam tomorrow afternoon?"

"Of course, sir."

_Slughorn's semester exam is tomorrow?_ Corinne thought bewilderedly. She really should pay attention more in his class.

"Excellent, my boy! I don't doubt for a second you'll receive topmost marks!"

Tom smiled cooly, clearly acting modest with ease. Oh, how Corinne wanted to smack him.

"Oh! I almost forgot what I came to ask you, Tom! Silly me!" Professor Slughorn dug his fat hand into his purple coat pocket, retrieving a white card with swirling penmanship. He handed the card to Tom eagerly. "My annual Christmas party for the Slug Club will be this Friday night at eight. This year I'm allowing each member to bring a date. I do hope you will attend?"

"Of course, sir," Tom replied. "Your parties are always impressive and grand. It will surely be a pleasant evening."

Slughorn laughed happily. "I'm honored to hear that!" Abruptly, his chuckling ceased when a shouting match between two younger students at the Gryffindor table arose and began to escalate. "Oh, dear. I must handle that. You know how first years can be, eh? Ha! Good day to you, Tom! You too, Miss Caraway!"

"It's Carrow, sir," Corinne whispered, though the bumbling professor was already across the Great Hall, shaking his large fist at the bickering first years.

"He would know your name if you weren't such a hermit," said Tom pointedly, smirking just enough to provoke her.

She glared at him. "Just because I prefer to be alone doesn't make me a hermit."

"Making excuses is the first sign of a problem."

"I'm leaving. You've ruined my appetite with your impertinence." Corinne tossed her last bit of toast back on her plate and started to storm off, but Tom had reached across the table seized her by her jumper sleeve, preventing her from moving. She spun around to tell him to let go of her, but her words caught in her throat. It was hard to say anything when he was looking at her with _those damn eyes_.

"What, Tom?" she spat, her throat tightening when she glanced down and realized that Tom still had a hold of her arm. He noticed this too and immediately let go, clearing his throat and looking away. Was he blushing?

"Sit," he said, then cleared his throat again. "I apologize for my uncivil manner."

Corinne stared at him, mentally debating whether she should obey. Why the sudden change of heart? Why was he so unpredictable? Knowing she may regret it, she took her seat again. Tom watched as she did so.

He seemed to just notice the invitation Slughorn had given him moments ago for the first time, scanning it with his eyebrows slightly furrowed in concentration. It reminded Corinne of that day in Potions class three months ago when they'd brewed their first potion together as partners. She remembered the way he worked with such focus and attentiveness, as if each task he did was more important than the last. It was one of the things she admired most about him. That, and his ability to change the subject so quickly to avoid awkward silences.

"There goes my plans to read in relaxation Friday night," Tom said, placing the invitation carelessly on the table. He didn't appear too fond of the idea of partying.

"What's the matter?" said Corinne in amusement. "Slughorn's Christmas parties aren't as 'impressive and grand' as you told him they are?"

He snorted. "Merlin, no. Unless you find fraternizing with all the dimwitted members of the Slug Club and drunk Professor Slughorn fun."

"And you call _me_ the social outcast? You are such a hypocrite, Tom Riddle." Corinne rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "If you don't want to go to the party, why did you say you were going?"

Tom shrugged. "I have a reputation to sustain and a wish to stay on Professor Slughorn's good side."

"You mean you want to suck up to Slughorn like you always do?"

"If that's what you think, then so be it," said Tom. "There's nothing wrong with showing further respect to a teacher. You could learn something from me."

"I'm perfectly fine with none of my teachers knowing my name, thank you very much." Corinne then plucked up Tom's invitation and studied it. "It says bring a date, you know. What poor girl are you thinking of bringing?"

"You."

Corinne sucked in a breath, inadvertently choking on her saliva. "I beg your pardon?"

Tom smirked. "You're the poor girl I'm bringing to Slughorn's Christmas party. Congratulations."

Spluttering like a fool, Corinne watched as Tom gathered his things and began to walk off. She followed after him, still utterly confounded at his audacity. Did he just _ask her out?_

"Wait, Tom!" She caught up to him outside the Great Hall and stood in front of him, blocking his path. Tom's eyebrows shot up, his eyes dancing with mirth. "You're not serious, are you? You must be joking."

He shook his head innocently. "All jokes are aside here. I was very much serious."

"But..." Corinne didn't know what else to say. How was she supposed to respond to _that_?

Tom side-stepped around her, whispering lowly in her ear, "Meet me here in the Entrance Hall fifteen minutes until eight on Friday evening. Dress formally. Don't be late."

Then he strode away, as if asking her to a formal event as his date was no big deal to him. As for Corinne, she was frozen in place, quietly panicking.

_Tom Riddle just asked me to attend Slughorn's Christmas party with him._

_We are going to be seen. Together._

_This is a party, which means other people will see me and possibly judge me._

And most troubling of all _, What in Merlin's beard am I going to wear?_


	18. Euphemia's Loan

_15 December, 1943_

_Asking Corinne to attend Professor Slughorn's annual Christmas party_ _as my date_ _was quite ingenious of me, if I do say so myself. The action was partly on a whim, I admit. I knew an irresistible opportunity was at stake the moment she asked who I was bringing to the party. I have already used Legilimency on her, and I still find myself curious to know what else she knows about Horcruxes. Dancing will be highly encouraged at the event, which will provide the perfect excuse to get close enough to her to access her mind._

_As I am writing this entry, I feel a twinge of anticipation for Friday evening. Corrine's naivety shall provide a quintessential barrier against my motives. The poor girl must think I've asked her out. She has no idea what is in store, and I relish in that fact._

_Or...at least I believe I do._

_\- T.M.R._

* * *

It was a brisk Thursday evening, the eve of Slughorn's Christmas party, and currently Corinne was alone in the Prefect's bathroom, which she secretly had access to, staring in displeasure at herself in the mirror above the sink. Being apart of a semi-wealthy Pureblood family, she owned a few decent dresses for formal occasions. But none of the three gowns she had brought to try on were appealing or worthy of wearing in front of Tom Riddle.

The first was a modest powdered blue dress that she had adored when she'd first gotten it three years ago, its color still captivating to her eyes even to this day. Now, she had severely outgrown it, the ankle-length skirt now up to her shins. Next was a fuller gown that was handed down to her by her older sister Celeste, cream-colored and sleeveless, with a low neckline that made Corrine self-conscious. Celeste was always venturesome and comfortable in her own skin.

Lastly was Corinne's favorite of the bunch, a modest black gown with lace-capped sleeves, was incredibly tight around the waist and bosom. She figured her best bet was to settle for wearing it, even if it was constricting and unflattering. Due to Tom's unexpected request for her to attend Slughorn's party with him just two days beforehand, she had no time to purchase a new dress or reluctantly write to her sisters to ask to borrow one. With the party tomorrow night, she was simply out of options.

Just as she was about to unzip the dress and change into her nightclothes, the door to the bathroom suddenly swung open, making Corinne gasp and hastily scurry towards one of the toilet stalls to hide. The last thing she needed tonight was to get caught in here by a Prefect.

Her hand had barely brushed the stall handle when a familiar female voice behind her exclaimed, "Oh, you startled me! I was just about to take a quick bath in here, but I can come back."

It was Euphemia Gates _._ And she was a Prefect _._

"No, you can stay," Corinne said, bending down to gather her spare dresses and clothes scattered on the floor, still turned and careful not to expose her face. She really didn't want to have another unbearable conversation with Euphemia like on Halloween. "I was just about to leave. The bathroom is yours."

"Are you sure?" said Euphemia. "I can-" She then paused. "Wait, Corinne? Is that you?"

Corinne cursed to herself. "Look," she attempted to explain. "I know I'm not supposed to be in the Prefect's bathroom, but please don't-"

"Report you to the Headmaster?" Euphemia laughed. "Don't worry, I won't. Just between you and me, lots of people sneak in here when they aren't supposed to. Fleamont and Septimus aren't very good at keeping the password a secret."

Corinne breathed an audible sigh of relief. "Thank you."

Euphemia smiled, setting her towel, soap, and change of nightclothes on top of the sink. The eerie lighting in the bathroom made her porcelain skin appear the same shade as the pristine white cotton robe she wore. The only pop of color on her was her bright eyes and dark hair. The girl was very beautiful, which made Corinne feel ghastly in comparison to her.

"That's a lovely dress you're wearing, Corinne," she said, eyeing Corinne's appearance. "What's the occasion?"

"Professor Slughorn's Christmas party," Corinne replied feebly, staring down at her bare feet.

"Oh, I'll be attending that tomorrow night as well! Maybe we'll see each other?"

Corinne nodded, gulping. In a way, it was reassuring to know someone she knew besides Tom would be there. But Euphemia still made her feel insecure and small. Even though she was very kind and amiable.

The girl continued trying to make conversation. "So who are you going with?"

"What do you mean?"

"To Slughorn's party." Euphemia grinned suggestively. "You're not in the Slug Club, so a boy must have asked you. Who's your lucky date?"

Corinne flushed and smiled bashfully. She'd never had a true friend who was a girl to share secrets and talk about boys with, so this was entirely foreign. Should she tell Euphemia who her date was? Despite how uncomfortable she tended to make Corinne, the girl seemed plenty trustworthy. What was the harm in sharing? "Tom Riddle."

Merlin, that felt good to say. She couldn't stop the torrent of heat rushing up her face.

Euphemia's eyes widened so substantially, it was almost comical to see. " _Riddle? The_ Tom Riddle? I would have never expected him to ask a girl out. He's just so... _dark and mysterious_."

_You have no idea._

Euphemia paused before adding, "Didn't you two used to be friends when you were younger?"

The corners of Corinne mouth upturned slightly as she thought of herself and Tom as children. "Yes, we were."

The other girl smiled and clapped her hands together excitedly, as though she were an infant discovering how to clap. "Oh, I'm so happy for you! If you don't mind me asking, are you two an item?" 

A blush ignited Corinne's cheeks again. Flustered, she managed to say, "No! No, we aren't...like _that_. Just friends. Good friends. Well, not _good_ friends, but just...friends."

Euphemia smirked, not looking very convinced. "You know, I thought the same thing two years ago when Fleamont and I started fancying each other." Her eyes flickered down to Corinne's dress again. "That dress is very beautiful, but rather plain for an event like tomorrow's. No offense at all. I think I may have something in my wardrobe that's too small on me that could fit you."

"Oh, Euphemia, you don't have to-"

But she had already dragged Corinne by the hand towards the bathroom exit, her eyes dancing with glee. " _Yes, I do_. Now, come on. We're going up to my dormitory."

* * *

The Gryffindor common room was much homier and inviting than the Slytherin one. Warm hues of red and gold surrounded the room, the roaring fireplace warming the space. A group of Gryffindor students huddled together on the plush red sofas, too immersed in what appeared to be homework to notice Euphemia and Corinne walk in. Corinne felt exposed and awkward, still in her tight-fitting black gown. She'd half expected the members of Gryffindor house to glare at her in disgust as she entered through the portrait hole, with her being a member of their rival house.

Students were technically not permitted to enter the living quarters of other houses, but they still did it anyway.

Euphemia led Corinne up the steps to the girl's dormitories, and her heart rate sped up. What if the Gryffindor girls stared at her, or worse, were rude to her? She had not prepared herself to meet other people tonight besides Euphemia.

She led Corinne into a room towards the end of the hall, where three other girls resided. They were in mid-conversation, having not noticed Euphemia and Corinne's entrance yet. Closest to the door was a pale blonde girl who laid on her stomach atop her bed, her large cat-like eyes glinting as she laughed. By the window was a beautiful girl with dark skin and wild curly hair, clearly trying to study but was being distracted by her roommates. The third girl was Augusta Longbottom, who Corinne had seen sitting with Euphemia and her friends back on Halloween. Up close, she was notably smaller and younger than her companions.

"I _saw_ Septimus looking at you at lunch today, Olivia!" the fair-haired girl exclaimed, causing a fit of giggles to erupt from Augusta. "I swear he was!"

" _One glance_ does not mean he fancies me, Anya," the dark-skinned girl, who the other girl had called Olivia, said exasperatedly. "And I don't fancy him either, so don't even suggest it!"

"But-!" Anya, the fair-haired girl, protested, but cut off when she saw Euphemia and Corinne standing in the doorway. "Euphie, there you are! Tell Olivia she and Septimus Weasley would be a lovely couple!"

Euphemia laughed. "Sorry, Anya. I know how you like to obsess over our love lives, but I'm afraid Septimus is off limits. I overheard him telling Fleamont a few days ago that he's had his eyes on Cedrella Black."

Anya wrinkled her nose. "But she's not even _that_ pretty. And she's a Slytherin."

"Don't be critical, Anya," Olivia chided. For the first time, her dark eyes met Corinne's and her face softened. "Oh, hello. Euphemia, you didn't introduce us to your friend here."

Euphemia lit up with realization. "Oh!" She turned back to face Corinne, pointing to each girl as she introduced them. "Corinne, these are my roommates Anya Cromwell, Olivia Thomas, and Augusta Longbottom." Then to her friends, she said, "Girls, this is Corinne Carrow. Of Slytherin house."

Anya reddened in embarrassment. "Corinne, forgive me for my rudeness. I didn't mean to offend you by talking badly of Slytherins..."

Corinne shook her head. Truthfully, she wasn't bothered at all by her earlier comment. "It's alright, you didn't offend me." At this, Anya's shoulders slackened in relief.

Olivia rolled off her bed and into a sitting position, her head cocked to the side in curiosity. "Did I hear Euphemia correctly? Your last name is Carrow? That's curious, I thought all the Carrow siblings graduated already."

_Now_ Corinne was slightly offended, but tried her best not to show it. She smiled as though nothing was wrong. "I get that a lot. I'm the youngest of the family."

Euphemia was digging through her wardrobe while Corinne conversed with the strangers before her, something totally out of her comfort zone. Oddly enough, it wasn't all that terrible. Anya and Olivia were easy to talk to, since they did most of the talking. Clearly Anya was a big gossip and loved discussing the topic of boys, while Olivia was more of the listener of the duo, who blushed whenever Septimus Weasley was mentioned. Augusta occasionally provided commentary; she was obviously the odd one out of the bunch, being a year younger than the others. Corinne related to her the most out of the three.

"Found it!" Euphemia announced triumphantly, hauling a long, flowing dusty pink-colored gown out of her wardrobe. She held it upright, allowing everyone to gaze upon it. The bodice was fitted, topped with a bejeweled design encircling the waist. The neckline was a sensible and elegantly heart-shaped, the capped sleeves short and covered in lace. Below was a full chiffon skirt, the fabric appearing light and soft to the touch.

Undeniably, it was a gorgeous dress.

Corinne switched her gaze to Euphemia, who was watching her expectantly, and blinked. "You want me to wear that, Euphemia? It's much too nice. I couldn't possibly..."

"Please don't worry about that," she said, bringing the dress over, careful not to let it touch the floor, and held it out for Corinne to take. Corinne hesitantly reached for the gown and held it gently in her hands, afraid if her grip was too tight, the delicate fabric would tear. "I can't wear it anymore, and with a small frame like yours, it will surely fit you. I want you to wear it to the Christmas party."

Corinne opened her mouth to protest, but Euphemia took her by the shoulders and led her behind a screen room divider in the corner of the room. "I'm not letting you refuse. At _least_ try it on and see if you like it."

Why was Euphemia being so nice to her? Did she pity her for being lonesome? Corinne couldn't help but feel like she was simply a charity case, and not a friend to this girl. Though she had to admit, the dress was stunning, and it was practically being thrown at her. She'd be stupid to decline.

Sighing, Corinne gave in. "Okay. I'll try it on."

Beaming, Euphemia hopped out from behind screen, giving Corinne the privacy to change. Even if she was concealed, she did not feel entirely safe taking off her clothes in an unfamiliar setting, in a room full of girls who were practically strangers. But she really was curious to see how Euphemia's dress would look on her.

With some difficulty because of the lack of space, Corinne managed to slip the gown on and reach behind her to zip it up. It was quite snug around the hips and at the bosom, but the fit felt nice. The fabric swirling around her legs was cool and pleasant against her skin, though the skirt was about an inch or two too long. Heels would fix that. Other than those small issues, Corinne felt surprisingly confident.

"Is it on?" she heard Euphemia call from across the room.

"Yes," she answered.

"Let us see, let us see!" Anya urged.

Inhaling, the bodice of the dress tightening as she exhaled, she stepped out from behind the screen, bracing herself for the stares of the other girls. Euphemia squealed, Anya gasped, Olivia's jaw dropped, and Augusta looked at her as if she were a different person. Corinne cleared her throat. "Well, what do you think?"

There was a variety of responses.

"Oh my God!"

"I think you look better in that dress than Euphie ever did!"

"The color compliments your hair and eyes so well!"

"You _must_ let us do your hair and makeup tomorrow evening!"

Corinne didn't know what to say. Euphemia grabbed her by the shoulders again and turned her around to face a full-length mirror. In the mirror stood a slim girl who was unaware of the curves that existed on her body. The fitted bodice of the gown emphasized her slender waist and hips, slight shoulders, full bosom, angular collarbones, the rich brown of her hair, the hazel of her eyes, and the tint of color to her skin. With a start, Corinne realized she had more of a resemblance to her mother and sisters than she once thought. They all had delicate frames.

Surely this girl in the mirror could _not_ be Corinne Carrow. 

"Tom Riddle will surely go weak in the knees when he sees you," Euphemia whispered.


	19. Slughorn's Christmas Party

Tom checked his pocket watch again for, he did not realize, the dozenth time since he had entered the Entrance Hall.

7:50 P.M.

Corinne was five minutes late for their arranged meeting time. Now they surely would not arrive at Professor Slughorn's party in the sensible five minutes beforehand in which the occasion was set to begin. Under no circumstance would he ever show up late. Not only would it go against his own punctuality, but it could possibly rouse suspicion in others if he were to enter Slughorn's office with his arm linked with Corinne's, as though the two of them were partaking in something that made them late. There was no need giving anyone the wrong idea.

Making an impatient noise, Tom started up the main staircase, meaning to march up to the broom cupboard by the library that occupied Corinne and drag her out whether she was ready or not. Just as he reached the first landing, his eyes downcast on his feet, he stopped short when the clacking of heels sounded loudly above him. He brought his gaze up and saw a girl in a light pink gown slowly heading down the stairs, lifting her skirts and managing each step with extreme caution. Tom nearly smirked at her obvious inexperience with walking in evening wear. He looked away for only a brief moment before returning his attention to the girl, and that's when he realized...

Suddenly, he was overcome with a sensation like being punched in the gut.

"Good evening, Tom," said Corinne, halting on the bottom step just before him. He was able to take in her appearance from head to toe.

She was barely recognizable at first glance. Probably for the first time in her life, Corinne was wearing makeup, which emphasized the shape of her cheekbones, her long eyelashes, the kaleidoscopic hazel of her eyes, the rosiness and delicate curve of her lips...

_Do not look at her lips, you fool._

Her brown locks were pulled back into an elegant bun, revealing her long, slender neck and prominent collarbones. Daringly, Tom allowed his eyes to rake downwards at the areas where her gown hugged each and every curve almost temptingly. Never did he realize that Corinne had such a figure; that she actually _had_ one.

"Tom?" she asked softly, her eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "Is everything alright?"

Should he compliment her? Should he tell her that she looked beautiful? That she had literally _knocked the air_ out of him? For some reason, no words would form on his tongue. Corinne Carrow had left him completely speechless.

"You look..." Tom started to say, then abruptly pressed his lips together when he remembered what his intentions for tonight were. This was not meant for his pleasure or leisure. This was crucial towards his plan. _His plan_ , and nothing else. Absolutely nothing.

Tom sighed through his nose and held out his arm, gesturing for Corinne to take him by the elbow. "Shall we?"

Hesitantly, she obliged and linked her arm with his. Tom proceeded to lead the way, mentally bracing himself for what would most likely be a long evening.

* * *

As dramatic as this may sound, the sight of Tom Riddle in dress robes had literally taken Corinne's breath away.

He wore all black, highlighting his porcelain pale skin and dark hair. The only pop of color on him was the pinkness of his lips and the rich blue of his eyes that bore into her, taking in her appearance as she was doing to him. His jaw clenched, bringing Corinne's studying gaze to the slopes and structure of his face and jawline. Tom was always exceedingly handsome, but when he was dressed up like this...

"You look..." he started to say, but stopped himself.

_Is he really going to compliment me?_ Corinne thought nervously, tucking a loose strand of her hair- which was miraculously still tightly wound in its bun with hairpins- behind her ear. She would never forget the double-take Tom did when he saw her. Euphemia and her roommates were truly miracle workers, transforming her into an entirely different girl as if she were Cinderella heading to the ball. She owed them a great deal for making her feel beautiful.

Instead of finishing whatever he was going to say, much to Corinne's disappointment, Tom held out his arm like a proper gentleman for her to take. Now she really did feel like a princess. "Shall we?"

_This will surely be an interesting night_ , Corinne thought before she finally accepted his gesture, letting him lead her all the way to their destination in silence.

* * *

Tom could hear the music and chatter coming from Slughorn's office before they even approached it.

In all honesty, he would rather be anywhere than a loud and crowded Christmas party. But of course, it did not matter whether he enjoyed it or not. His goal tonight was to get physically close enough to Corinne to access everything she knew about Horcruxes. If his suspicions are true and she knows more than she ought to, he will have no choice but to threaten or, worst case scenario, _obliviate_ her. And deep down, he really did not want to do either.

Slughorn's office was enchanted to appear larger than it actually was, with high ceilings bewitched to drop disappearing snow and white pillars adorning the room each wrapped with gold tinsel. The walls were a deep scarlet color with emerald curtains hanging from them at intervals. Four white Christmas trees stood at each corner of the room, each one decorated with green and red ornaments. Several house elves were darting around the guests, carrying silver platters and placing them on the snack and refreshment tables. Tom had to admit, Professor Slughorn was no amateur when it came to throwing lavish parties.

A number of invitees were already dancing in the middle of the floor, swaying to the sweet melodies of the string instruments in one corner of the room that were enchanted to play without musicians. As Tom pulled Corinne through the crowd, he noticed how captivated she seemed by everything around her.

"Slughorn has really outdone himself," she said loudly above the growing music and laughter.

Tom nodded, agreeing with her as he surveyed the large space. Slughorn was not hard to spot in his flamboyant emerald waistcoat and maroon tie. He appeared to be in the midst of quite an amusing conversation with an older guest, giggling and hiccuping every few seconds. Judging by his flushed cheeks and sluggish movements, he most likely has had too much to drink. Tom really wasn't in the mood to speak with the tipsy professor tonight.

The string instruments began to play a different song, this time a much slower one. Tom took this as an opportunity to make his move.

He stopped in an empty space of the floor and held out his hand, causing Corinne's lips to part in bemusement. "I'm not one to stand around at a grand occasion like this. Care to dance?"

Corinne stood frozen, clearly unsure how to take this. Tom found her confusion somewhat of an endearing quality. "I- I have no experience dancing with a partner. I'll make a fool out of myself and trample your feet."

"I don't doubt you'll make a fool out of yourself." He grinned when she gave him an offended look. Then he stepped forward and took both of her hands, placing one on his shoulder and clasping the other, pulling her close enough that he could feel her breath on his face. He maintained his composure at their closeness and whispered, "But I assure you, I will not let you trample my feet."

Noticeably, Corinne gulped and stared down at her feet self-consciously as Tom led her into a dance, stepping forward, backward, and sideways at a rhythmic pace with the music. While his movements were smooth, she was sloppy and unexperienced, stumbling over her own feet and dress. Each time she messed up, a dark blush crept up her neck and cheeks. He could not help but watch her as her shoulders relaxed and she became more comfortable.

"I did not expect you to know how to dance," Corinne said with a touch of amusement, looking up from her feet to him.

"Every good gentleman knows how to slow dance," said Tom proudly, smirking down at her as she tripped once again.

"Oh, I'm dreadful at this," she admitted sheepishly.

"That, you are."

She slapped him lightly on the shoulder, scoffing. "You could at least lie to spare my feelings!"

"Why would I lie when your fact was so obviously true?"

"You're impossible. You really call yourself a _gentleman_?"

Tom had to admit bickering with Corinne was thoroughly entertaining. She was immensely stubborn and hated losing, which regularly made for an interesting argument. When would she learn that he would always triumph over her?

After a moment of silence, and the string instruments had started another song, Corinne spoke again. "When we were on the stairs, you were about to say something about how I looked, but you stopped yourself. What were you going to say?"

A lump formed in Tom's throat, but he forced himself to remain collected. "Why do you want to know? Fishing for compliments, are you?"

Her lips curled upwards. "So you _were_ going to compliment me?"

Tom mentally cursed. "Maybe I was. Can't a gentleman comment on how his companion looks? It's only proper."

Corinne rolled her eyes. "You and your etiquette, Tom Riddle," she muttered under her breath. "Just admit you have to inability to say anything remotely nice to me."

Something inside Tom snapped. "Do you know what I think?" Inadvertently, he let his eyes sweep down the length of her body, then leaned in close and whispered, "I think you clean up very nicely, Carrow."

Corinne's eyes widened, clearly as shocked at what Tom said as he was. He did not move his face away from hers, causing their eyes to lock and their noses to nearly brush. No matter how hard he tried, he could not look away. He was vaguely aware that they were pressed against each other in a rather intimate way in a room full of people. Part of him did not care who would see them if he were to inch his face just a bit closer...

But the reasonable part of him stopped himself from being so idiotic. _You came here for a reason. Do what you intended to do._

Slowly, Tom inclined his head and rested his forehead against Corinne's. While her eyes were closed in bliss, he began to concentrate on passing through her mind's barriers. Expectedly, it was unguarded and vulnerable to his prying. As though he were unlocking a door to step through the threshold of her mind, Tom slipped through and began his hunt. The intensity of her thoughts was a very different experience.

Unlike last time, Corinne's mind was less of a whirlwind of ice and darkness followed by heat and brightness, and more of gentle breeze on a pleasant summer's day. At the moment, she was experiencing so many positive emotions that Tom had never felt before or knew of. He recognized her happiness and excitement, but none of the other feelings. Much of it filled his stomach with a very bizarre sensation. What emotion could _that_ possibly be?

Tom had just glided past her emotions when suddenly, image after image popped up in his mind at a rapid pace. They each only lasted a second, as though they were individual frames of a film. Bizarrely enough, they were all of _him_. He saw himself sitting by Corinne in Potions class, himself finding her in the broom cupboard, himself kissing her for the first time, himself sitting by her at the Black Lake, himself kissing her again, himself talking to her up in the Astronomy Tower, himself asking her to Slughorn's Christmas party...

Each of these flickers of memories were tied to the strange fuzzy sensation that Tom felt in his stomach and chest. Those times with him had made Corinne feel so immensely happy, yet anxious and fearful. How could one person feel so much for another person? More importantly, what exactly did she feel for him?

Happiness? Fondness? Infactuation?

_Love?_

Corinne suddenly gasped, causing Tom to break his focus and was forcibly pushed out of her mind. Both of them were panting and visibly shaken, trying to process what had just happened. Tom's face fell with dread. Corinne had noticed her thoughts had been penetrated.

"Tom?" she said drowsily, clutching her head and leaning into him for balance. "Tom, I-I feel like I may faint..."

No. She could _not_ faint here.

Quickly, Tom grabbed Corinne's arm and led her through the crowd towards the exit, ignoring the angry protests as they bumped into people. He half-guided her, half-dragged her across the floor until they were out in the corridor. Corinne lost her footing and stumbled into the wall, weakly propping herself against it. Tom reckoned his use of Legilimency on her was too much for her to bear. He just hoped he would not have to carry her all the way down to the pathetic broom cupboard she resided in.

"Tom, I need to lie down," Corinne murmured, beginning to slump down the wall. Tom caught her by the arm and lifted her up.

"Don't worry, I've got you," he whispered before she went limp against him. Sighing, he hefted Corinne up into his arms and decided to take her to a more comfortable place for her to rest for the night. Somehow, he knew he would regret it.

* * *

Corinne stirred in her sleep, realizing without opening her eyes that she was not in the broom cupboard. The scent of the room was totally foreign, yet comforting. Underneath her, she felt plush cushions that were surely attached to a sofa that put her rickety cot to shame. Rather than waking up and investigating where she was, she remained still and comfortable. Just as she was about to drift back asleep, she heard the unmistakable sound of Tom's voice whisper in her ear.

"You cannot fool me anymore, Corinne. I know you eavesdropped on me and Slughorn. I know you know about Horcruxes _._ "


	20. The Room of Requirement

_December, 1943_

The first thing Corinne became aware of when she finally roused from her deep sleep was how warm she was. Customarily, she would wake up shivering from the bitter chill of the broom cupboard. Wherever she was now, the atmosphere was the complete opposite. She could hear the distinctive sound of a crackling fire, and when she found the will to open her eyes- which was difficult, for her eyelashes were caked together from mascara residue- an intricate silver chandelier dangling from the ceiling above was her first sight. Panic momentarily arose in her chest due to the confusion of being in an unknown place...

"I was beginning to think you would never wake."

Corinne bolted upright, glancing wildly around her until she found the source of the voice she was well familiar with. Tom sat across from her in a velvet green armchair- he still wore his dress robes from the night before- with his elbows balanced on both armrests and his long fingers clasped together at his chest. When their eyes met, his already amused expression intensified, and he looked as though he might laugh at her. Self-consciously, Corinne repositioned herself until she was sitting up on the sofa, with her hands placed neatly on her lap. She froze when she discovered she was not wearing her pink gown she wore the night before.

She gestured to the gray wool skirt, white blouse, and Slytherin jumper she currently wore. "Tom, I don't believe I recall changing into this last night."

"You didn't."

A wave of horror hit Corinne like a hex. "Did _you_ -?"

"Remove your dress?" Tom finished for her, chuckling as he shook his head. "Yes, but with magic. I assure you, I didn't see anything. I assume you don't mind that I summoned a spare set of clothes for you to sleep in. You didn't look very comfortable in that incredibly tight dress you were wearing." Noticing the alarm still disfiguring Corinne's features, he tilted his head to the side. "Unless you _wanted_ me to change your clothes the Muggle way?"

" _Tom Riddle!_ "

He leaned his head back and let out another deep chuckle. "You take me far too seriously sometimes, Carrow."

Corinne could feel her face becoming hotter and hotter, her cheeks an angry shade of red. This only embellished Tom's clear satisfaction in leaving her completely abashed.

Not daring to meet his gaze, she seized the opportunity to observe the room they were in. It was so massive that she had to tip her head all the way back just to look at the ceiling, where the large chandelier she noticed earlier hung, which she now realized was shaped not like tree branches but curving serpents, each one with a small lit candle adorning the point of their tails. About the size of the Great Hall, the room was decorated like a master suite, with the largest bed she had ever laid eyes on off to the side; a mahogany hope chest, side table, and desk were also situated in that area. Where they sat was a sort of lounge area containing only the emerald green sofa where Corinne sat and Tom's matching armchair. He clearly had a strong liking for the color green, for the flames flickering in the fireplace were also that color.

Looking to her left now, Corinne nearly gasped at the long row of ceiling-high shelves against the far wall, completely filled from top to bottom with books. The personal library back at the Carrow mansion was nothing compared to this one.

The room was truly spectacular. Did everyone at Hogwarts know of it? Why has it never been mentioned? The castle was known to contain mysterious rooms, but this one seemed too vast and conspicuous to be a secret.

"To answer your question," said Tom suddenly, interrupting Corinne's survey of the room. "No one knows of this room but you and I. Not even the teachers or Headmaster, to my knowledge. It presents itself when one is in great need, transforming itself to suit the seeker's desires. This is where I live instead of a dormitory. I call it the 'Come and Go Room.'"

"And no one else can find this 'Come and Go Room?'" inquired Corinne curiously.

Tom shook his head. "It is not my wish for anyone else to find it, so the door disappears whenever I enter or leave.

"That's quite convenient." Corinne paused, still taking in the proportions of the room. She wondered what floor they were on. Then she recalled what Tom had named the room and couldn't suppress her grin. "Did you really name this room the _Come and Go Room?_ "

"Yes, why?"

"Well, it's a little too dull and straightforward, don't you think?"

Tom frowned similar to the way a child looks when they don't receive what they wanted for Christmas. "Why does it matter if the name is 'too dull and straightforward?' I think it makes perfect sense. The room, in the literal sense, _comes_ when I want to enter and _goes_ when I leave."

Corinne shrugged. "I just think it sounds a bit silly, is all."

Obviously exasperated, Tom threw up his hands and said, "Well, since you have the nerve to criticize, what brilliant name do _you_ suggest?"

Corinne thought for a moment, tapping her finger against her chin as she foraged her brain for ideas. Whatever she came up with _had_ to be sufficient to Tom's standards or she would look like an idiot. She had to prove herself to him. In other words, she really didn't want to lose this argument.

Then it hit her. "I know the _perfect_ name," she said, smirking smugly as she leaned back against the sofa and crossed her arms over her chest, raising her chin in a superior manner. " _The Room of Requirement._ "

Tom said nothing, his expression blank and unreadable. For a split second, Corinne thought she saw his jaw twitch. Just that tiny movement was enough to let her know that she had won this dispute.

"Admit that you like it," she demanded, still smirking.

He sighed, staring down at his hands. "I suppose it has a nice ring to it," he muttered, just barely loud enough to be heard.

"Then it's settled!" Corinne beamed. "From now on, this room will be known as the Room of Requirement."

"If it makes you shut up, then so be it, Carrow."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head in disbelief, grinning. "You are so unbelievable, Tom Riddle."

"And you are so obnoxious." Tom mimicked her tone.

Despite the insult, Corinne was not offended. Something in his tone made it seem as though he found her anything but obnoxious.

"May I ask you something?" he then asked.

"Of course," said Corinne hesitantly, bracing herself. Knowing how unpredictable Tom was, there was no way to ever foresee what he may say to her.

Tom himself was also hesitant. "Do you remember anything after you fainted when we left the party last night, when I brought you here?"

Memories of the night before revisited her. She remembered meeting Tom on the staircase and the way he looked at her in her gown, the music filling Slughorn's office, the way the beautiful Christmas decor seemed to swirl by her in a twister as Tom spun her around as they waltzed, the strange sensation she felt when he leaned in close and touched his forehead against hers, as though a cold, slippery serpent was worming its way into her head...

After that, her memories were a blur. She vaguely remembered Tom escorting her out of the party and lifting her up in his arms as she collapsed, and perhaps a dream she had afterwards as she slept. She swore Tom had said something to her in that supposed dream, but that was long forgotten.

"I don't remember much," Corinne finally answered, desperately trying to remember more details. "Just bits and pieces."

Tom's face hardened. He then stood up slowly, taking long strides across the lounge space until he reached the coffee table situated before the sofa, squatting down on it. The two of them were now directly facing each other, positioned where Corinne could easily assess Tom's features. His expression had darkened considerably, making her gulp. Something menacing brewed in his eyes.

"You don't remember _anything_?" Tom said lowly, leaning closer. Corinne had to inch backwards. "Not even my warning to you?"

A lump formed in her throat. "Warning?"

She was now pressed against the back of the sofa, where Tom had stood and leaned all the way forward, trapping her in place. The threatening look in his eyes was unlike anything he had ever displayed towards her. For the first time, she was frightened of him.

"I think you remember more than you say you do," he sneered, placing his hands on either side of her thighs.

"Tom," Corinne whispered, her voice trembling. "Stop. You're scaring me."

He did not stop. Instead, he pressed his hands against the back the sofa, nearly touching her shoulders. His hot breath mingled with hers. "Let me enlighten your memory," he hissed. " _You cannot fool me anymore, Corinne. I know you eavesdropped on me and Slughorn. I know you know about Horcruxes."_

The realization made Corinne gasp audibly, making Tom grin wickedly. She suddenly remembered waking up in the early hours of the morning, and the venom in his voice as he whispered that very same phrase in her ear. She had not been dreaming. Dread washed over her like a tidal wave about to drown her.

Corinne was too afraid to move. Surely Tom would not hurt her...would he? "Tom, please..."

" _Shut up_ ," he snapped, now gripping Corinne's shoulders. His rough touch made her yelp. "I hope you realize the mistake you have made. Did you really think you could hide what you did from me? You have _no right_ to know anything about me. You've shown absolute disrespect towards me by invading _my_ personal business. I ought to curse you right here and now, you-"

At the sight of the tears running down Corinne's face, Tom stopped mid-sentence, loosening his grip on her shoulders and stepping away from her. She could hear heavy breaths coming out in huffs through his nose as he was obviously calming his temper. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, leaving red nail marks against his palms. Corinne was still frozen in shock. She did not dare to say anything.

Suddenly, he reached into his dress robes and produced his wand. Corinne's eyes widened in panic and her body unfroze, as she began to scurry away. Then she felt Tom sit down next to her and grab her arm, this time very gently. His fingers were feather-light on her. The change in his demeanor was so abrupt, Corinne didn't know what to expect from him next.

He could either kiss her or kill her.

When she tried to pull away from Tom's grasp, he said, "Stop. I won't hurt you."

Something in his tone made Corinne believe him. He truly had the skill of persuasion of the Devil himself. "Then why do you have your wand?" she asked.

Tom then brought his hand up to her chin, turning her head until her gaze met his. His countenance had greatly softened in what seemed like a matter of seconds. It was as though his change in mood was brought on by the snap of someone's fingers.

With his hand still holding her face in place, Corinne did not notice him bring his wand upwards. "Because I cannot have you knowing my secret." Before she could react, his wand pressed into her temple in one quick motion as he muttered, " _Obliviate_."

* * *

Tom watched patiently as Corinne's eyes clouded over as the memories of her eavesdropping on him and Slughorn and from the last few minutes began to vanish from her mind. More importantly, her knowledge of Horcruxes would cease to exist. She blinked rapidly, as though she were waking up from slumber. When her eyes focused again, she looked at Tom blankly, as if she did not recognize him. For a split second, he panicked and wondered if he had performed the spell wrong and erased _all_ of her memories.

Especially her memories of him.

"Tom?" Corinne finally said, causing Tom to exhale with relief. "What just happened?"

He helped her sit back against the sofa. "You fainted again. I believe you're terribly exhausted. Are you alright? What is the last thing you remember?"

Patiently, he waited for her to recount. Her forehead creased with concentration as she searched her thoughts. He leaned forward eagerly when she began to speak. "I...I remember waking up in here. You joked about changing my clothes with magic. Then...ah, yes, I named the room the Room of Requirement. And you called me obnoxious."

"Is that all?"

Slowly, Corinne nodded. Then her expression brightened. "Oh! You said you were going to ask me something. What was it?"

Tom lied, saying the first arbitrary thing that came to mind. "I was going to ask if you were leaving tomorrow for the holidays."

"Oh, no, I'm staying here at Hogwarts," Corinne replied, shrugging.

"Won't your family miss you?" Didn't she realize how lucky she was to _have_ a family? Why would she not go home for Christmas? Some people just didn't realize how fortunate they were. Tom had to force himself to put aside his anger and jealousy. Corinne had a luxurious mansion and parents and siblings to go home to while he had to remain at the school _alone_ with no family _..._

The mansion _. Of course._ How could he forget?

Corinne smiled sadly. "My family won't miss me. They barely know I exist."

"That's not true," Tom said, in a fake attempt to sound comforting. He then leaned in closer in the way that seemed to drive Corinne crazy. Unleashing the best talent he possessed; his _persuasion_. "Corinne, you possess two things that I lack: a home and a family. You're very fortunate compared to many people. I'm sure you're well aware of the heinous acts that Gellert Grindelwald is currently committing in the wizarding world? The Second World War in the Muggle world?"

She gulped. "I'm aware. But what does that have to do with my family?"

"What I mean to say is, what if Grindelwald slaughtered your family, as he's done to so many others?" Tom pressed on, despite Corinne's evident discomfort. "He and his followers are growing in power as we speak. Your family is wealthy and well known; he could go after them. You never know where he may strike next."

"Tom, I-"

To really sell his act, he took hold of her hands, looking into her eyes. He was playing her like a fiddle. "I don't want to see you suffer, Corinne. I know that one of the things you desire most is the approval and love of your family. Don't drift away from them, especially not in these dark times. Whether you think so or not, _they need you_."

Tom watched as Corinne's bottom lip began to wobble. After a long moment of mental debate, she let out a shaky sigh. "You're right, Tom."

He had to fight the urge to smile triumphantly. "So will you go home for Christmas?"

"But what about you?" she said forlornly, looking into his eyes. "You'll be here alone."

"Yes, unfortunately I will," said Tom, nodding gravely. His heart was pounding in anticipation. Somehow, he knew exactly where this conversation would go. She pitied him, just as he expected.

Corinne bit her lip, clearly pondering something. "I have an idea," she said. "I'll go home for the holidays, on one condition."

"And what would that be?" Tom asked, hanging on to her every word.

"Come with me."


	21. Departing for the Holidays

_19 December, 1943_

_In just a few hours time, I will be departing with Corinne to her residence, Carrow mansion. I'm very much pleased that the exemplary opportunity presented itself to me. Soon, I will have complete access to the Carrow's collection of the wizarding world's most valuable objects. Reliable sources tell me that there, I will find just what I need._

_I can practically feel Salazar Slytherin's locket already in my grasp._

_As for how I managed to get mine and Corinne's names on the list of students departing for the holidays, it was quite simple, really. I am persuasive even to the most suspicious of beings. Dumbledore's vacuous state has yet again overshadowed his undeniable wariness of me._

_With that being said, I daresay I'm very much looking forward to Christmas and my birthday this year._

_\- T.M.R._

* * *

"Remind me again how you were able to get our names on Dumbledore's list at the last minute?" Corinne asked Tom for the third time since they'd climbed aboard the Hogwarts Express in Hogsmeade. The first two times she'd questioned him, he'd simply shrugged it off as though it were nothing to worry about. Despite that, Corinne still wanted to know.

"Do you really think I, a _Prefect_ , would let us board this train when we weren't supposed to?" said Tom, briefly peering up from the copy of _Introduction to the Dark Arts_ that he frequently held in his possession, shaking his head. "You really ought to trust me more, Corinne."

"I'll possibly _begin_ to trust you if you'd just tell me. What did you do? Bribe Dumbledore? Turn in the next month's worth of Transfiguration homework?"

"More like the next _year's_ worth."

For a moment, Corinne thought he was being serious. It was something he was likely to do. But when his face broke into a grin to let her know he was joking, she attempted to reach across the train compartment- containing only the two of them- and smack him. " _Tom._ "

"Well, if you _must_ know," he said, his lips upturned in a thoughtful smile, as if he knew an important secret that she didn't. "Dumbledore was very easy to persuade. I'm quite favored among the Hogwarts staff."

"Oh, I'm aware." Corinne snorted. _Teacher's pet._

Tom shut his book and set it beside him on the seat. "You really should be thanking me for granting you the ultimate gift."

"Which is?"

"Why, to see your beloved family for Christmas, of course."

_Beloved, my arse,_ Corinne thought cynically. She crossed her arms, bemused. "Haven't we had a conversation sort of like this? Why does hearing 'thank you' bring you so much satisfaction?"

"Doesn't it satisfy everyone?" Tom retorted, falsely innocent. "And yes, I do believe I recall that prior conversation. It took place in the broom cupboard, the night we first... _you know_."

"Kissed?" Corinne blurted aloud before she could stop herself. The boy before her smirked victoriously as her eyes widened and her cheeks reddened at the intimate memory. He clearly found delight in toying with her.

Before he could reply, the door the the compartment slid open, revealing seven boys, all of which were members of Tom's tight-knit group. Corinne recognized them as Lestrange, Avery, Rosier, Mulciber, Antonin Dolohov, Alphard Black, and Abraxas Malfoy. They each had quite a reputation in Slytherin house. Not only that, but they were fiercely loyal to Tom.

Lestrange took the lead and stepped inside, bowing slightly. "My Lord, you've requested to see us?"

Corinne referred back to the first time she'd heard Lestrange address Tom as _my Lord_. It disturbed her then, and it also did now. The way the seven boys stood stiffly in the presence of him, who regarded them with a cold sanctimonious glare as though they were merely rats, unsettled her. Just moments ago, Tom was an entirely different person, teasing and bickering with her like it was natural for him to do so. In just a matter of seconds, he'd switched into a tyrant.

He nodded curtly to Lestrange, then turned to Corinne. His gaze did not soften when it met hers. "Corinne, would you give us a moment?"

She stared at him blankly before realizing he wanted her to leave. Without another word, Corinne briskly fled the compartment, feeling seven pairs of eyes on her as she slipped past the Slytherin boys. She became aware that they probably viewed her as a threat who had taken their leader's full attention away from them. Part of her wanted to stick her tongue out at them in a gloating gesture. But when she noticed that Abraxas Malfoy's steely glare had lingered on her, she decided against it and hastily retreated into an empty compartment.

* * *

"What did you want to speak to us about, my Lord?" asked Dolohov once he and the other six boys had crowded into the cramped train compartment, presumably a year or two younger than his companions, concluded by his youthful complexion and short stature.

"Need I remind you, Dolohov, that since you are fairly new to the Knights," Tom hissed, making the others boys noticeably tense. "You have no authority to speak unless I have spoken to you. _Don't_ make me remind you again."

"Y-Yes, my Lord," Dolohov whispered, trembling slightly as he bowed again.

Tom's lip curled at the younger boy's cowardice. Then he scanned his selection of followers, most of which, in his opinion, were much too witless for their own good. The majority of them were only there because they were afraid, not so much because they believed in his cause. Although it did come in handy that they always did whatever he asked of them. They knew what would happen if they didn't obey.

"I'm going to make this short," Tom announced, standing before the seven boys, who were listening intently. "I've requested your presence today for a very simple task. Lestrange, Avery, Rosier," he turned to the three boys standing in the front of the cluster; his most devoted servants. "I trust you've each been continuing your research of the artifacts I desire?"

"Yes, my Lord," replied Lestrange, Avery, and Rosier in synch.

"Still no leads of their whereabouts?"

"No, my Lord."

Tom sighed heavily. "Very well. I ask the seven of you to continue researching during the holidays. Report back anything you may find the first night we return to Hogwarts. Any questions?"

"What of you, my Lord?" said Alphard Black cautiously. "What is your business during the holidays?"

"I believe that is none of your concern, _Black,_ " Tom snapped, his jaw clenching. Alphard's face paled significantly. He then waved his hand dismissively towards the others. "That will be all for today. _Do not fail me_."

"Yes, my Lord," all seven Knights murmured in response.

Tom turned his back to them, staring fixedly out the train window as they left the compartment one-by-one. Through the reflection in the glass, he could see that one Knight remained. He did not face the blond boy as he regarded him. "What is it, Malfoy?"

"She's quite pretty, my Lord."

The comment made Tom tense all over. He spun around, staring at Abraxas Malfoy incredulously. _"Excuse me?"_

Abraxas laughed, prominent crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes and lips. He'd always reminded Tom of an elf, his features unnaturally pointy. "The girl who was in here with you before we arrived. I've seen her with you a few times. Is she a new recruit?"

Tom's lip twitched. "Something like that."

"I take that as a _no_."

It was nothing new that Abraxas Malfoy spoke to his leader differently than the other Knights did. The blond boy possessed an undaunted sort of loyalty to Tom that he had grown to admire. Unlike the other boys, Abraxas was not frightened of him and did not dedicate himself to the Knights of Walpurgis out of fear. He did it because he had an unbridled desire to practice the Dark Arts, solidified protection in what he believed was an unbeatable organization, and a thirst for glory. Tom had the drive and power to reward him just that.

Though Abraxas was not afraid to voice his thoughts aloud to Tom- whereas if another Knight did so, they would likely be punished- he was aware of his limits. He was currently pushing them by bringing Corinne into the conversation.

"You ought to watch what you say to me, Malfoy," Tom warned lowly, his hands balled into fists.

Abraxas held up his hands in surrender. "Touchy subject, I get it. I only wished to run something by you that I've been overhearing lately from the others."

This got Tom's attention. He raised an inquisitive brow. "Which is?"

"They're under the impression that something is going on between you and her. You know, _romantically_. They believe she's making you weak, my Lord."

Suddenly, Tom's vision was all red. His teeth were gritted so hard that he would not find it startling if they were to shatter in his mouth. Before he could stop himself, his instincts took over. His wand was out in a flash, his whole body seething in rage. "Do me a favor, Malfoy," he then said, his tone dangerously low.

"Anything, my Lord." Abraxas was unfazed by his leader's frightening volume of anger.

"Bring them all back in here for me."

Promptly, the blond boy left to do as he was told. While he waited, Tom shut the blinds of the train compartment and cast the _Muffliato_ charm.

He did so to prevent the other passengers of the Hogwarts Express from hearing all six boys' screams of agony while they were being tortured for their ludicrous insinuations.

* * *

As the Hogwarts Express eased to a stop at platform nine and three-quarters, Corinne sighed in relief. She had always hated the long train rides to and from Hogwarts.

Having retrieved her school trunk, she stepped onto the crowded platform, standing on her tiptoes to try and locate Tom. It shouldn't be that difficult since he towered over everyone. The 'moment' he had promised to spend with his followers had actually lasted the remainder of the train ride. Though Corinne didn't really mind. She was always glad to get extra sleep.

Eventually she did spot Tom as he descended from the train, his eyes darting around trying to catch sight of her as well. They reunited off to the side, out of traffic. The first thing Corinne noticed was Tom's state of disarray. Tom Riddle was _never_ this disheveled.

"Are you alright?" she asked him, her eyes raking over him. "You're awfully sweaty. Did something happen while I was gone?"

He quickly wiped his glistening forehead with his sleeve. "Nothing out of the ordinary. Just had a friendly chat with my companions, is all."

Corinne didn't really believe him, but decided to put the matter aside. There was no telling what transpired when she left that train compartment.

Tom cleared his throat and glanced around. "So how are we getting to your home?"

"My brother Cyrus should be here any minute."

Thank Merlin she had a brother like Cyrus. He was the only one willing to pick her and Tom up from Kings Cross Station. Corinne had also written to her parents the night before stating that she was indeed coming home for Christmas, but received no reply. Only Cyrus had written her back saying he would arrive at King's Cross to Apparate with them to Carrow mansion. Their parents may not even be expecting her, much less an unfamiliar guest.

"Corinne!"

Feeling a rush of excitement, Corinne searched wildly around her for Cyrus. Rushing straight towards her with his arms outstretched, her handsome, lanky brunette older brother squeezed his way through the crowd, swinging her up in his arms when he finally reached her. He's always done this ever since they were children. Both of them laughing, he set her down, his arms still wrapped around her in a tight embrace. While their parents were rarely around, Cyrus was always around to make sure she felt loved. 

Corinne was the first to pull away to inspect him. She had to crane her neck to take him in fully. Cyrus had always been very tall. She didn't think it was humanly possible for him to grow any more. "Have you gotten _taller_?"

Cyrus laughed. He had the most contagious laugh Corinne had ever heard in her life. "I've been alive for twenty years, and I don't think I can recall you _not_ asking me that in a situation."

"I swear you _must_ have giant blood in you," she joked. "In fact, I don't think I know anyone else who's taller than Tom!"

That was when Cyrus noticed Tom for the first time, his eyes widening comically. "Oh, forgive me!" He courteously held out his hand for the other boy to shake. "You must be the Tom Riddle my sister mentioned in her letter. Wow, I remember you when you were just a wee first year. You probably don't remember me all that well. I'm Cyrus Carrow."

Suddenly, Corinne remembered her very first night at Hogwarts five years ago, when she and Tom had just been Sorted, and how Cyrus had shaken Tom's hand very much like he had just offered to do now. It was as though she was currently seeing the past and present intertwine. Unlike last time, Tom was not hesitant to shake Cyrus's hand. He accepted the handshake like a proper gentleman, even flashing a polite smile. His first impression skills were impeccable.

"Pleasure to see you again, Cyrus," he greeted mannerly, firmly grasping the other boy's hand. He and Corinne's older brother greeted each other like old friends.

When they pulled away, Cyrus turned to Corinne, clapping his hands together as he said happily, "Well, sis, let's get you and your boyfriend home already! I'm starving!"

Corinne's eyes bulged in horror. She could hear Tom chuckling lightly beside her. " _Cyrus!_ We're not... _together_ like that!"

Cyrus didn't seem to hear her as he held out both of his arms. "Alright, both of you grab one of my arms and whatever you do, do _not_ let go. I don't need any of you getting Splinched. Tom, I presume you've Apparated before?" When Tom nodded, he continued, "Good. Now grab me and on the count of three, we Apparate."

Corinne had plenty of experience with Side-Along Apparition. It was certainly not her favorite form of travel. She didn't even enjoy flying by broom or using Floo Powder and portkeys, but she'd prefer those any day over Apparition. Reluctantly, she gripped her brother's left arm, while Tom grabbed his right, and braced herself for the awful sensation.

"One...two..."

The last thing that caught Corinne's attention before she was overcome by blackness and the feeling of being suffocated inside a tiny rubber pipe was a smear of bright scarlet blood on Tom's shirt collar.


	22. Carrow Mansion

_December, 1943_

The constricting sensation was over in seconds. While Cyrus and Tom landed gracefully, Corinne's feet collided roughly on the gravel, causing her to stumble forward. Smooth Apparition was never in her favor.

Cyrus barked out a laugh and grabbed her arm to steady her. He turned to Tom and whispered while gesturing beside him to Corinne with his thumb, "Always the klutz, this one."

Tom smirked. "I'm aware."

The boys exchanged chuckles, causing Corinne's face to turn a shade of magenta. "Don't talk about me as though I'm not here!"

"Sorry," Cyrus retorted, grinning. "But I'm afraid that goes against my job description as your annoying big brother."

Forgetting that Tom was present, Corinne did the only logical thing needed to taunt her brother. She stuck her tongue out at him.

This was a playful side of herself that she was careful to never demonstrate anywhere except around Cyrus. So when she met Tom's gaze and saw how taken aback he looked by her rather childish action, she couldn't help but shrug sheepishly in apology. He continued to stare at Corinne as if he were just beginning to see the real her. She wasn't sure if she liked that idea or not.

"Well, Tom," said Cyrus, sweeping his arm out wide towards the looming mansion at the end of the gravel driveway. "This is it. Our humble abode!"

" _Humble_ wouldn't exactly be my word of choice," mumbled Corinne.

"It's certainly larger than I imagined," Tom commented.

Carrow mansion was an aged white-brick, three-story structure with a stone wall arranged in a semicircle around the property. Neatly trimmed hedges were situated on either side of the lawn, the tops coated with a layer of powdery snow. Yellowed grass was also dusted with snow, as well as the two large cypress tress on both sides of the property. The roof peaked on three areas of the mansion, the center alcove forming a stone balcony. Above the tall wooden front door was an elegant arch in an intricate design you may see outside of a cathedral.

A series of stone steps led up to the entrance, where inside was what Corinne dreaded most. The rest of her family.

She began to question herself as Cyrus rambled on about the mansion to Tom. Why did she agree to this? Why did she think dragging Tom along was a wise idea? Why was it so easy for Tom to persuade her to come home and face one of her worst fears? She seriously debated canceling the whole ordeal altogether and retreating back to the comfort of Hogwarts with Tom.

But what would Tom think of Corinne if she let fear control her once again? Would he call her a coward? His opinion mattered greatly to her, and she didn't think she could bear his look of disapproval and disgust at her lack of a backbone. Not only that, but Cyrus would also surely be disappointed. Corinne couldn't let her brother down and make him face their family alone this Christmas.

Running away was just what her parents and other siblings expected her to do. She _had_ to prove them wrong. She had to show them that she was a Carrow and she was not afraid.

Without a trace of hesitation, Corinne led the trio up the front steps of the mansion to the entrance. When she was little, she was always amazed by height of the tall, heavy oak double doors. Carved into the wood were swirling, branching patterns. The Carrow family crest, two roaring lynxes, was engraved at the center where the doors met. Ornate brass door knockers were hinged on either door, topped with small detailed lynx statues.

Gathering up the nerve to knock, Corinne turned to Tom and let out a shaky sigh. "Look, before we go inside, I should warn you that our family..."

"Is complicated," Cyrus finished for her helpfully. "I don't guarantee that they will be kind in consideration that it's almost Christmas. Especially our parents. They don't particularly like to celebrate holidays like normal families."

"Somber holidays are nothing I'm not used to," Tom muttered, his eyes flickering down at his feet. Corinne knew he was never comfortable talking about his personal life, and was tempted to rest a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I think I can handle your family, no matter how awful you make them out to be."

"Brave man," Cyrus complimented, then winked at Corinne. "I think I like him already, sis."

Corinne narrowed her eyes. "Cyrus," she said warningly.

Just then, one of the tall oak doors creaked open, startling Corinne. She thought for a second that it'd fallen open on its own accord until she glanced down at the tiny three-foot-tall house elf with humungous green eyes and a burlap sack covering its body peering around the door. When it recognized her and Cyrus, it hopped in place excitedly, its bat-like ears flapping.

"Master Cyrus! Mistress Corinne!" the elf cried. "Tibble is most pleased to see you! Come in, come in!"

Corinne couldn't help but smile at Tibble, the kindest house elf their family owned, as he escorted them inside. The foyer was dark except for the faintly flickering lamps on the deep green walls, as expected; her parents preferred their home dim. Their shoes and Tibble's bare feet padding across the black marble floor created an ominous echo throughout the soaring entryway.

Cyrus removed his coat and magically sent it flying into a nearby coat closet, cracking his knuckles. "Tibble, what are you preparing for dinner tonight?"

Tibble scampered to keep up with Cyrus's long strides. "Tibble is preparing a pot roast tonight, sir! Should Tibble inform Master Cornelius and Mistress Cressida of your arrival?" The elf paused when his gaze finally landed on Tom for the first time. "A guest! Forgive me sir, forgive me!"

Something shone in Tom's eyes as he took in the sight of the house elf bowing purposefully to him, as though he enjoyed being reminded he was superior to the creature.

"Yes, Tibble," Cyrus told the elf exasperatedly. "You might as well let our parents know we're here."

"Of course, Master Cyrus! Should Tibble also notify them that we have a guest?"

"Yes, Tibble."

The eager house elf scurried off up one of the two sets of staircases leading up to the second floor, leaving the trio alone once again. Corinne pulled out her wand, murmuring a spell that sent her school trunk up to her bedroom and Tom's up to one of the many guest bedrooms in the mansion.

Cyrus then clapped his hands together. "Well, Corinne, I'll leave you to show Tom around the mansion. I've got some business to attend to before dinner. See you two then."

With that, he winked at Corinne and Tom before Disapparating. Corinne rolled her eyes. Her brother's philosophy was: Why bother walking up two long flights of stairs when it's so much easier to Apparate? Really, that was just his excuse for being lazy.

Realizing she and Tom were alone, Corinne blushed, playing with a loose string on her blue jumper. She didn't think this through, expecting Cyrus to take the lead and give Tom a tour of the mansion. Where does she even begin?

"Do you have a library here, by chance?" Tom suddenly asked.

Corinne blinked at his question for a moment before recomposing herself, giving him a small smile. He was going to love the Carrow family library. "Of course we do. Would you like to see it?"

He nodded. "I would like that."

* * *

Corinne didn't know how long she and Tom stayed in the massive, two-story library. Some of her fondest childhood memories were born in this room. Cyrus chasing her around, him accidentally Transfiguring the staircase leading up to the second level into a slide, him reading wizard fairytales to her, him actually teaching her to read. Even the floor-to-ceiling tapestry on the wall sewn with the Carrow family crest held a memory; Caine and Clarice unintentionally set it on fire once. It was quite funny until they blamed Corinne for doing it.

Currently, Tom was stalking down the tall shelves on the second level, examining each and every title of the books etched on their spines. Every once in a while, he would pluck a book off the shelf and open it up, skimming through it quickly before placing it back. Corinne had asked him if there was anything particular he was searching for, but he waved off her question. She decided to let Tom look on his own, which wasn't the worst thing in the world. A library was like a candy store to him.

She walked up the steps to join him, her eyes sliding past the titles he'd just passed. These books were mainly educational, which Corinne had always avoided. She preferred to stick with the wizarding world's acclaimed fictional novels, new ones always appearing in the library each time she visited.

Tom held up a glossy black book in his hands, flipping through the pages keenly. Corinne noticed he was enthralled by the darkest section of library that she always avoided. The shelves he was rifling through contained books only on the Dark Arts, a vast collection started decades ago by her father. He'd always had a strange fascination with darker forms of magic.

"I didn't know your family was interested in the Dark Arts," Tom remarked, noticing Corinne's presence out of the corner of his eye.

"No, just my father," she admitted ruefully, glaring at the array of books on the Dark Arts as if she could burn them away with just her gaze. "You seem curious about dark magic yourself. Why is that?"

Tom shut the black book and slid it back on the shelf, and instead of making eye contact, he continued reading book titles and dragging his finger across them. "I like to be educated on everything, Corinne. Knowledge is very crucial to me. I want to know everything I can about the Dark Arts simply so I can understand it better and evoke awareness to myself. I'm sure that's what your father means to do as well."

"Ah, yes," Corinne stammered. "I suppose so. But don't you think _this_ ," she gestured to the collection of her father's books, "is borderline obsessive and...well, a bit shady?"

This time Tom did bring his gaze up to her. An abnormal flicker kindled in his eyes. "I find it surprising that you find your own father shady, yet you've acquainted yourself with _me_."

Corinne gulped. "You're different."

Something sparked between the two of them as their eye contact persisted. An invisible magnet seemed to draw them closer together, each step electrifying the space between them. Just as Tom's slender fingers barely brushed Corinne's jaw, sending a jolt through her, a high and squeaky voice caused them to spring apart.

"Mistress Corinne! Poppy has come to pass on a message from your mother! She wishes to tell you dinner is ready and to come downstairs at once!"

Corinne cursed aloud, smacking a hand to her forehead. She would much rather tell Poppy the house elf to tell her mother that she was feeling ill and couldn't make it to dinner, but her mother would surely find out she'd lied. The consequence would be much worse than actually having to sit through dinner. _Face your fear_ , Corinne chided herself. _You only have to put up with them for an hour._

"Well, let's get this over with," she huffed out, then leaned a bit closer to Tom and added, "I also want to apologize in advance for anything my parents or siblings may say to you that might offend you."

* * *

The snide comments started before Corinne even got to sit down at the table.

"Look who showed up," Clarice jeered, then proceeded to burst into obnoxious snickers with Caine.

"I thought you weren't coming," Celeste said dejectedly, as though her younger sister were a disappointing Christmas present. Corinne noticed a huge diamond ring shimmering on her left hand. When had her sister gotten engaged?

"She's changed her mind, so _be nice_ ," Cyrus chastised the Carrow siblings, trying to be helpful on Corinne's behalf. She appreciated his attempt.

Caspian's gaze passed over her to Tom, who stood not-so-inconspicuously behind her. "Who's this bloke?"

"Everyone, this is Tom," said Cyrus, gesturing to him. Strangely, Corinne felt she was more out of place in the room than Tom was. He fit right in somehow. "Corinne's friend from school. He'll be spending the holidays with us."

As Tom and Corinne took their seats beside Cyrus, Caine looked Tom up and down and said, "Blink twice if Corinne's put you under the Imperius Curse so you'd be her friend."

Corinne choked, horrified. " _Caine!_ "

Tom was surprisingly calm. He looked Caine straight in the eyes as he replied tonelessly, "Judging by your tendency to insult people because you lack the assertiveness to act naturally, I'd say _you're_ the one who may need to use the Imperius Curse on someone if you're seeking companionship with someone other than your twin sister."

There were a series of reactions. Caine turned a comical shade of tomato red. Clarice and Celeste gaped at Tom open-mouthed. Caspian choked on his wine. Cyrus barked out a loud guffaw.

As for Corinne, she's never wanted to hug Tom more than at this moment.

Breaking everyone's speechlessness, the door to the kitchen opened, and Corinne's mother strode gracefully into the dining room, Poppy the house elf trailing behind the woman's skirts holding salt and pepper shakers. Instinctively, every Carrow sibling straightened their posture.

Cressida Carrow was a severe-looking woman with sharp angular features, thin lips, high cheekbones, thin arched eyebrows, and startling dark brown eyes that appeared almost black. Her dark hair sprinkled with gray was pulled back into a very tight bun, and her dark velvet blue gown had a bejeweled collar that reached the top of her throat with sleeves that snaked down her arms. Her presence radiated strictness and propriety.

"What was that loud commotion I heard from the kitchen?" she demanded, her harsh features softening when she spotted Tom. She nodded stiffly to him. "You must be our guest that my house elf mentioned. A friend of Corinne's, I heard. I'm Cressida Carrow. Welcome to our home."

As if with a flick of a wand, Tom turned on his charm and smiled politely at Corinne's mother. "Mrs. Carrow, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Tom Riddle. Your home is quite spectacular."

Corinne's mother stared at him, momentarily stunned, before her lips twitched up into a returning smile. It did not look very friendly, but neither was she. "Why thank you, Tom."

_So far, so good_ , Corinne thought, relieved.

"Mother, where's father?" Caspian asked.

Their mother sighed. "Your father isn't feeling well tonight, so he's eating dinner in his study. He should be alright in the morning."

Corinne could tell her mother was speaking only half the truth. Though she was rather thankful she did not have to see her father tonight.

The first half of dinner went by surprisingly without conflict. No more insults were made towards Corinne. In fact, no one really bothered her except for Cyrus who'd quietly asked her to pass the wine. As for Tom, he was polite and amiable as he could be whenever Corinne's mother asked him questions. Of course she was curious.

She'd asked him things such as "How long have you and Corinne been friends?" and "What is your family like?"

Corinne expected Tom to falter and appear upset at the last question, but he handled her insensitiveness with ease. "Actually, I don't have any family," he'd said.

"You don't have parents?" Corinne's mother had asked rather bluntly.

"They're dead."

This silenced everyone. Tom was clearly on edge after having mentioned his personal troubles for the second time today. The next half of dinner was unbearably silent, and Corinne was utterly ashamed of her mother.

At last, when dinner ended, Corinne hurriedly led Tom upstairs to his guest bedroom, the two of them not saying a word. What was there to say? It was Corinne's fault for asking him to come here with her when she knew in the back of her mind that it was a terrible idea. More and more, she regretted ever stepping foot in this house again.

"This is where you'll be staying" she said, stopping at the guest bedroom that was just a few doors down from hers. She didn't know if it was a coincidence or not that Tom's school trunk had landed in this particular room that was so close to hers.

"Thank you," Tom replied, moving to step inside.

"Wait," Corinne blurted out before she could stop herself. "I'm sorry about my mother. I hope she didn't offend you too badly."

"She didn't."

"Are you sure?"

Tom nodded. "I've heard worse."

"Oh." Corinne swallowed, shifting her feet nervously. "Well, I won't bother you anymore tonight. Goodnight, Tom."

She began to walk off down the hall to her own bedroom, biting her lip and fighting back tears. Before she made it very far, she heard Tom say, "We both have something in common, Carrow."

Corinne told herself to keep walking, but couldn't help but spin around, curious. "And what would that be?"

Tom took several steps forward until he was close enough that Corinne's self control was on the verge of evaporating. His voice was low and smooth as he said, "We both despise where we come from."

Then he swiftly turned on his heels, disappearing into his room and leaving Corinne standing in the middle of the hallway in complete bewilderment.


	23. Dysfunction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: physical abuse (not too graphic)

_December, 1943_

Carrow mansion was entirely inanimate and still in the dead of the night, its inhabitants stirring not even a muscle in their slumber. Vaguely, silhouettes of spindly tree limbs swaying in the blizzard outside and large snowflakes hitting the windows danced across the floors that were illuminated faintly by moonlight. Encompassed in unconsciousness, the Carrow family was blissfully unaware of the figure lurking through the corridors of the mansion.

Once he was sure everyone was fast asleep, Tom took it upon himself to slip out of his guest bedroom for a quick late-night exploration. His footsteps were soundless with every stride due to the Quietening Charm he murmured under his breath before departing. He began his silent trek to the library, his mind centered on his prize.

He'd noticed it earlier today when Corinne had brought him to the library. She was observing the giant tapestry of the Carrow family crest hanging from the wall, a hint of a smile teasing her lips, as though she were recalling a fond memory. Tom followed her gaze from the tapestry's summit at the ceiling to to its base, where strange scorch marks frayed the edges a bit. That's when he saw the light outline of a rectangle at the center of the fabric. It was easily hidden for unsuspecting eyes, but Tom's sharp sight spotted it clearly.

A door.

Curiosity of what was behind the enchantedly hidden doorway itched at him for the remainder of the evening. His gut instinct was telling him that it may as well be what he came to Carrow mansion for.

Once inside the library, Tom stepped across the room until he was directly before the tapestry. He promptly produced his wand from his robes.

" _Revelio._ "

Unexpectedly, the charm backfired, sending Tom staggering backwards a few steps. He bit his tongue to prevent himself from cursing audibly. _Of course_ whatever was behind the door was shielded by a protection spell. And quite an effective one, at that. Thankfully his attempt at removing it didn't trigger an alarm.

Tom tried again, casting every spell he knew that would possibly counteract the enchantment. And there were plenty of powerful ones he was familiar with. Either the charms rebounded or didn't affect the target at all. This was immensely frustrating. There was one solution left he could try, but it would be risky.

It was time to demonstrate his dexterity in persuasion on a certain brunette pawn again.

* * *

Corinne's eyelids fluttered as she began to wake up, squinting at the bright morning sun beaming through the gap in her lace curtains. Her back arched as she stretched and sat up, clutching the duvet against herself to block the chilly air from hitting her bare arms. Surprisingly, she felt a pleasant thrum of energy surging within her. She hadn't felt this well-rested in ages.

If only she could take her bed to Hogwarts with her.

Humming with contentment, Corinne brought her gaze to the ticking clock on the wall. Her melodious little hum turned into a startled squeak in an instant.

It was nearly twenty minutes until noon. She'd overslept by almost four hours.

Throwing on her dressing robe over her night shirt and pajama pants, Corinne flung open her door and was prepared to bolt downstairs until she nearly ran over one of the three family house elves.

"Mistress Corinne!" yelped the startled elf, who was named Slightly. Half of one of his ears was missing. "Slightly apologizes for frightening you! Mistress Cressida just requested that Slightly wake you for lunch!"

"Why didn't she ask you to wake me sooner?" Corinne inadvertently snapped at Slightly, though she was really angry at her mother. Before the house elf could answer, she stopped him. "Never mind. I'm heading down there now."

"Slightly wishes you a lovely day, Miss!"

_I wish for that too_ , Corinne thought, having already started walking down the corridor.

* * *

An unfamiliar sound rang throughout the first floor as Corinne neared the dining room. She hadn't heard a sound like it since she was very young. When she entered the dining room, her steps faltered as she took in the scene before her in disbelief.

Her father, a tall, barrel-chested man with squinty dark eyes, a perpetually downturned mouth, neatly parted dark hair with little gray, and intricately trimmed facial hair sat at the head of the table, his head tipped back as he laughed loudly. Whatever had him so tickled even caused him to smack his hand against the table, rattling the plates and silverware. The Carrow siblings, all present at the table, stared at their father incredulously. Their mother watched her husband with a delighted sort of astonishment in her expression. Corinne's eyes were wide and her mouth partly agape, wondering wistfully who this man was that had replaced Cornelius Carrow, someone who was never fond of strangers and rarely smiled or let out a chortle.

"Mr. Riddle, you are one charming young man!" exclaimed her father, dabbing at his watery eyes with a handkerchief.

Tom sat at the end of the table, smiling dazzlingly as he conversed with Corinne's parents. She blinked, completely stunned. Never had she imagined that something like this would ever take place. Of course her parents liked Tom. It shouldn't be a surprise; all adults adored him.

Still frozen in place in the dining room entryway, her mother finally noticed Corinne's presence and her contented smile evaporated. "I was beginning to think you were avoiding getting out of bed today, Corinne. You know better than to sleep in late." Suddenly she gasped, taking in Corinne's appearance. "You're not dressed? Corinne Carrow, a lady does not parade around the house in her sleepwear!"

Corinne's siblings, except Cyrus, each snorted and sniggered. Her father appeared irritated, assuming his usual position by crossing his arms over his chest while frowning deeply. Tom was smirking ever so slightly, his mischievous eyes fixated on her. Corinne felt her face heat up as though her skin had just burst into flames as she hastily tied her dressing robe together. She wanted nothing more in that moment than to race up to her bedroom and never come out.

Just as she began to do so, she heard her mother say, "Wait. Turn around."

Corinne obeyed, and before she could question her, her mother had stood up from her seat, her wand out and poised. Nonverbally, she waved the wand fluidly over Corinne's form, transforming her sleepwear into a maroon day dress and black buckled shoes.

Her mother arched her eyebrows and raised her chin, a sign that she was satisfied. "That will do. Now sit."

Again, Corinne did as she was told. Her plate magically filled itself with chicken and peas, but she did not touch them. Across from her, Clarice let out a snicker.

"Nice hair," she scoffed, gesturing to Corinne's very obvious bed hair that their mother didn't bother to fix along with her outfit.

Corinne ignored her sister, paying more attention to the continued conversation between her father and Tom.

"I assume you've had a tour of the mansion, Tom?" asked her father amiably.

Tom nodded, smiling politely. "Yes, Mr. Carrow. Corinne kindly showed me around. I told Mrs. Carrow last night at dinner how spectacular it is. I especially enjoy the library."

"You and I are quite alike, then," Corinne's father beamed. "I've spent years building my extensive collection, acquiring titles of subjects ranging from brewing the most potent potions to-"

"The Dark Arts?" Tom finished, leaning forward almost eagerly. Corinne was surprised by his audacity.

For a moment, her father's face was blank, seeming just as taken aback. Then he grinned. "Ah, yes. My collection of Dark Arts volumes. Does the subject interest you, Mr. Riddle?"

"It's more of a mild curiosity." Tom cleared his throat and changed the subject. "I also heard your family business deals with buying and selling wizarding artifacts, sir? That sounds fascinating."

"Oh, it certainly is. Just last week, a colleague of mine sold me a long lost family heirloom of the Peverall family. Very valuable, indeed. I have it displayed in the library if you would like to see it." Corinne's father then surveyed his children. "If one of you would escort Tom to the library..."

"I'll do it," Corinne blurted out, involuntarily shrinking against her father's glare.

"You can't," said her mother. "Your father and I need to speak with you privately."

Corinne gulped, immediately overcome with dread. She was sure they were going to scold her for walking into the dining room in her nightclothes.

Cyrus pushed his plate forward, causing it to magically float towards the kitchen to be washed, and stood up. "I'll take Tom to the library."

Their mother sighed. "Very well, Cyrus." She gently pushed her own plate forward, which followed Cyrus's plate to the kitchen, then indicated Corinne with her finger. "Corinne, I'd like you to wait for me and your father in his study, please."

With a sympathetic frown from Cyrus, sly smirks from her other siblings, and a curious glance from Tom, Corinne complied and headed to her father's study to meet her forthcoming reprimand and/or punishment.

* * *

"Sit down, Corinne," said her father, gesturing to one of the leather chairs positioned in front of his desk. He sank down in his own chair behind the desk, while her mother stood supportingly beside him.

Corinne slowly sat, her posture tense as she awaited being rebuked. "I'm sorry for showing up at lunch not properly dressed..."

Her mother dismissed her with a wave. "We're not here to talk about that, Corinne. We're here to talk about Tom."

"T-Tom?" Corinne stammered, very flustered. "What about him?"

"You two are friends, yes?"

Corinne unintentionally hesitated. "Yes."

"Nothing more?" asked her father.

"No."

"Good," said her mother, seemingly relieved. "That eliminates a potential issue. We can't have you marrying a man who is not a Pureblood."

Corinne's breath caught in her throat and she felt the blood drain from her face. She swallowed with difficulty. "Marriage?"

Her mother laughed as though the reason for her talking about marriage was completely obvious. "Corinne, you will be seventeen in May. It's time to begin considering your life once you leave Hogwarts. Celeste got engaged when she was eighteen and is now about to marry into the Black family. Clarice is betrothed to a man of the Rosier family. Now, it's your time to find a future husband of Pureblood lineage. I'm afraid Tom Riddle is not a qualified suitor for you."

Corinne stared at her parents, horrified that they were having this conversation with her. Her voice trembled as she asked, "How do you know Tom isn't a Pureblood?"

"Oh, please. With a name like Riddle, he must be descended from _Muggles_." The woman's lip curled in disgust.

"It's truly a shame," added Corinne's father, his expression blank. "that an exceptional young man like Mr. Riddle has to live knowing he is part Muggle. It almost pained me pretending to be hospitable towards him at lunch."

Corinne fought to keep her temper at bay. "Despite what you think of him, Tom is my friend."

Her mother smiled cruelly. "Oh, Corinne. You and I both know that you and that boy are more than friends." Her expression then darkened. "And I want whatever it is between the two of you to end _immediately_. You already did enough by bringing a non-Pureblood into this house."

Corinne did not respond. She was afraid she would snap at her mother and make the situation worse.

Her father cleared his throat. "There's something else we wish to tell you, Corinne. Cressida?" He nodded to his wife.

Corinne's mother pressed her hand to her forehead, as if she were trying to remember what she was going to say. Then her face lit up in realization. Her tone was bland. "Oh, yes. We meant to tell you that your grandfather has passed."

A wave of strange feelings washed over Corinne in a matter of seconds. The news felt like a sucker punch straight to the gut. It felt like falling headfirst off a cliff. It felt like plunging into icy water and slowly losing all feeling in your body. Worst of all, Corinne tasted the comforting peppermint candies her Grandfather Scovell used to always give her.

" _What?"_ she managed to whisper, staring down at her lap and letting her tears soak the skirt of her dress.

"It happened three months ago," her mother stated matter-of-factly. "He'd been ill for a while. Quite old, too. Well into his seventies."

Corinne searched her mother's eyes for any sign of grief or regret. There was nothing. No sympathy whatsoever for her deceased father.

She stood up from her chair, walking around her father's desk toward her mother. Her tone was venomous. "He's been gone for _three months_ and you didn't bother to write me at school? Did you even care enough about your own father to give him a funeral? Do Caspian, Celeste, Cyrus, Caine, and Clarice even know?"

"Watch your tone," her mother warned, her glare intensifying.

"Why are you being like this?" Corinne cried, tears flowing freely down her face. "He was your _father_ , for God's sake! Just because he had different opinions about Muggles and blood status than you doesn't mean you had to completely estrange yourself from him! He died thinking his own daughter didn't love him!"

Abruptly, Corinne's father stood up, shoving his chair backwards roughly as he charged towards her. "How _dare_ you yell at your mother! She had every right to cut ties with her father! He was a Muggle-loving _disgrace_ to wizard-kind!"

Corinne couldn't stop the words from spewing out. Though she didn't regret them in the least bit. " _He was a better man than you'll ever be."_

She expected him to yell at her again, and she was fully prepared for it.

But what she didn't expect, nor was she prepared for, was her father backhanding her across the face and knocking her onto the floor.


	24. Never Come Back

_December, 1943_

"Is this what your father meant for you to show me?" Tom asked Cyrus once they'd stepped in the library. They now hovered around a glass display case by the window containing a rather large and gaudy jewel-encrusted brooch. The ornament was quite hideous.

"This would be it," said Cyrus, seemingly absentminded and uninterested. "I see you're not impressed."

"Didn't your father say this was an heirloom of the Peverall family?" Tom peered through the glass in distaste. "It doesn't appear as outstanding as he made it out to be."

Cyrus snorted. "That's because it's not. My father should have said it was _supposedly_ an heirloom of the Peverall family. With strong emphasis on _supposedly."_

Tom raised an inquisitive brow. He could detect an underlying truth regarding Cornelius Carrow's character. "So it's a fraud?"

Suddenly, Cyrus's nonchalance towards the topic disappeared. His expression was grim as he replied lowly, "One thing you ought to know about my father, Tom, is that he is not a virtuous man in the least bit. To him, business and reputation come before all." He paused and chewed his lip. "Sometimes even family."

Tom did not respond. He hated when people voiced their burdens to him as though they expected to be pitied. Therefore, he felt no sympathy for Cyrus. Hearing that his father was not the person he came across as being when Tom conversed with the man at lunch was no surprise. Ever since he arrived at Carrow mansion, tension and dysfunction among the family were evident as day.

Bored, Tom cast a glance around him until he spotted the Carrow's tapestry. That's when an idea struck him, and he acted on it without hesitation.

He whipped out his wand in one swift motion and pointed it at Cyrus, who didn't even have time to react. " _Imperio._ "

It was too easy. Being in a vulnerable state, there was no chance that Cyrus would be able to resist the curse. Tingling warmth shot down Tom's arm as a yellow-green mist emitted from his wand, wafting over Cyrus's face. His features slackened noticeably, his eyes glossing over as he was overcome in a trance-like state. Tom knew the nature of the curse banished all worries of the victim and left nothing but ineffable happiness.

He thought it was far too harmless to be considered unforgivable.

Now submitted under Tom's full control, Cyrus sluggishly made his way over to the tapestry, obviously dimly conscious of his surroundings. He then placed his hands at the center of the fabric, causing the outline to flash briefly before the door materialized into a heavy carved door with a knob. Tom watched with eagerness and excitement as the door flew open, revealing a vault filled to the ceiling with glinting artifacts. A Gringotts vault was nothing in compared to this. The object he sought after could likely be in the midst of these treasures.

Impatient, he called out, " _Accio_ _locket!_ "

He waited, but nothing happened. It was worth the try, but in reality, something as simple as the _Accio_ charm would not work on any object residing inside this vault. He would have to manually search for Slytherin's locket.

Before delving inside, he turned to Cyrus again, releasing him from the Imperius Curse and then _obliviating_ him. The boy blinked, shaking his head in bemusement. His eyes darted around, acting as though he didn't have a clue where he was or how he got there. Finally, his gaze settled on Tom, his brows pinched together as he murmured incomprehensible phrases.

"Tom? What am I...where...what happened...?"

"You fainted," Tom told him simply, grasping Cyrus's shoulder with false concern. The boy's back was turned to the tapestry, unaware that the hidden vault door it contained was open. "I think you need to go lie down."

"No, I'm okay," Cyrus protested, shaking his head again. "I-I think I just need some air. You'll be alright in here alone?"

"Of course," said Tom, guiding him to the exit, careful not to let him turn around.

"See you later, Tom." Cyrus gave him a small wave before he turned and departed, leaving Tom to quietly shut the door and lock it, a satisfied smirk playing at his lips as he began to search the Carrow vault.

* * *

The study was unsettlingly silent as Corinne remained motionless on the floor, too stunned to move. Neither her mother nor her father uttered a word to her, but simply stared down at her expressionlessly. The same sentence replayed through her mind in sync with her throbbing jaw.

_My father just hit me._ Throb _. My father just hit me._ Throb. _My father just hit me_. Throb.

Never in her life did she believe either of her parents would lay a hand on her. She had always been verbally abused for as long as she could remember. But physical abuse was never in the picture. Not until now.

Corinne once thought that being smacked across the face was something entirely different than being yelled at and told you're not good enough. But the mental and emotional repercussions of those circumstances were not so different. Both situations made Corinne feel a great deal of pain. Both made her feel like a disgrace to her parents. Both made her feel unloved.

Now the only adult figure that had ever loved her and believed in her was gone.

"Get up," her mother ordered, her tone lacking any form of emotion.

Afraid to disobey, Corinne pushed herself up, her limbs trembling as she got to her feet. She felt something warm and wet trickling from her mouth. Her entire mouth tasted of it. Blood.

Her parents said nothing. Again, they stared blankly. Corrine wondered hopefully if they were guilty and if her father was about to apologize. Any normal parent who had just hit their child would beg for forgiveness, maybe even hug and comfort them. But these were Corinne's parents.

"Go," said her father gruffly, his mouth taut.

Corinne didn't say anything. Partly because she was scared to, also because she felt there was nothing to say.

And so she stormed out of her father's study, not wasting a second by glancing back. Tears spilled from her eyes, which she hastily wiped away with the back of her hand. Just as she rounded the corner, she stopped abruptly, her eyes wide with bewilderment.

There they were, with their backs pressed against the wall, clearly having been eavesdropping. Caspian, Celeste, Caine, and Clarice. Cyrus was nowhere to be seen. The siblings that disliked her as much as their parents did, for the first time, now each wore expressions of deep shock, sorrow, and grief for their younger sister. Corinne knew they'd overheard everything.

And judging by the way they were eyeing her bleeding mouth, they knew she'd been hit by their father.

She could tell they each wanted to say something to her. There was too much they could've said; that they were sorry for their cruelty all these years, that they loved and cared about her as they did for one another. But her siblings remained silent. Maybe they were incapable of saying nice things to her. After all, they'd been raised to be carbon copies of their parents.

And that wasn't their fault. Because of that, Corinne felt sorry for them as much as they probably felt sorry for her.

She did not speak to them. Instead, she let her eyes do the talking, hoping to convey her message to each of them: _I love you._

Sobs that she hadn't realized she'd been holding back finally erupted out of her as she broke into a sprint. She ran blindly through the mansion, her tears streaming out in torrents and obscuring her vision. All she knew is that she needed to find Cyrus, the one family member left that loved her, and that she needed to find Tom, the closest thing she had to a best friend. They were now the only people in this world whom she trusted.

She kept running in the direction of the library, where she knew Tom and Cyrus would be. As she rounded another corner, she slammed into a tall body, his lanky frame one she recognized all too well.

"Merlin's beard, Corinne! Slow down..." Cyrus's teasing voice faltered and his whole body tensed as Corinne clung to him, losing control of her emotions and bawling into his shoulder. His tone was anxious. "Corinne? Corinne, tell me what happened."

She pulled away enough to sob despairingly, "He hit me, Cyrus. _He hit me._ " 

"Who hit you?" Cyrus's eyes were wide with alarm as Corinne began to hyperventilate. "Corinne. _Corinne_ , please tell me who hit you."

_"Father."_

The color drained completely from Cyrus's face. He then grasped Corinne by her shoulders and held her back at arm's length so he could examine her face. His hands shook as he gingerly brushed her bloody mouth with his thumb.

"That hurts," she whimpered, wincing.

"He busted your lip open," Cyrus whispered, his jaw clenching in anger. He took out his wand and brought it up to her lip, muttering, " _Episkey_."

Corinne's bottom lip felt warm, then cool, as the wound sealed itself. She still tasted copper and her lip and the side of her mouth were beginning to swell. Dried blood was crusted all over her mouth and chin.

Then, suddenly, Cyrus took hold of her shoulders again, startling her. He looked at her straight in the eyes, his expression grave. "Corinne, look at me." When she obliged, he continued steadily, "I need you to listen to me very closely. It's not safe for you here anymore. You need to go get Tom and leave. And I want you to promise me something."

"Anything," Corinne whispered, her lip quivering as she began to cry again.

Cyrus swallowed with strain, his own eyes filling with tears. "Promise me you'll never come back to this house."

Corinne took this like a punch to the stomach. "What? Why?"

"I told you, it's not safe here anymore. You don't know this, but Father's been involved with...with really bad wizards for years. They are enthusiasts of Dark Magic and believe that one day, wizards will rule over Muggles. And no, Father's interest in the Dark Arts isn't some harmless fascination. He's _practicing_ it, Corinne. His beliefs have led him to an allegiance to..." Cyrus lowered his voice to a whisper. " _To Grindelwald._ "

Corinne stifled a cry of horror. She shook her head, refusing to believe her brother. "No, no, _that's not possible_. Grindelwald and his followers _murder_ people. F-Father would never..."

"He tried to recruit me to the cause, Corinne," Cyrus blurted out, as though it were painful to admit. His voice trembled. "Mother, Caspian, and Caine are already in on it. And after Celeste and Clarice get married, they'll most likely be influenced as well. Even though I refused, I'll be forced to join. Father is dangerously high up in Grindelwald's ranks. Don't underestimate his capabilities. He's committed more terrible deeds than you know."

Corinne felt bile rising in her throat. "H-How could Father do this to his own family?"

"Because he's a _bastard_ ," Cyrus replied spitefully through clenched teeth. "Anyone who's friends with a man like Gellert Grindelwald is a no good scoundrel."

"They're _friends?"_

Cyrus nodded dourly. "Grindelwald was in Father's year at Durmstrang before he got expelled. He even recruited Father into his army himself. They still write to each other frequently."

Corinne didn't know how to respond. What was she supposed to say after hearing that her father personally knows the most dangerous Dark wizard of all time, is loyal to his twisted cause, and has his family involved in it? And the two questions that itched at the back of her mind:

"Why didn't I know any of this, Cyrus? Why did Mother and Father keep _me_ in the dark, but not everyone else?"

Cyrus's eyes were pleading. "Be thankful that you were kept in the dark instead of being recruited like the rest of us. You have a chance to escape this chaos. _Please take it._ "

"But _why_ was I kept in the dark?" Corinne pressed. "And don't say it's because they're protecting me, because they aren't. I think Mother's hatred and Father's _action_ towards me," she pointed to her swollen lip, "proves that neither of them love me."

Cyrus hesitated for a moment, not meeting her gaze as he said softly, "Do you really want to know why they're so disdainful towards you?"

Corinne laughed sardonically. "Oh, so they told you why they hate me too?"

Her brother ignored her cynicism and sighed. "Something you should know, first off, is that before each of us were born, Mother and Father visited a Seer to receive a prophecy of our futures. They're strong believers in divination. Anyway, when Mother became pregnant with her sixth and final child- you- the Seer assured them that if her baby was a boy, our family would prosper and be pure of Muggle blood for generations. But...if the baby turned out to be a girl, the Carrow family line would be tainted."

"So," said Corinne, staring down at her feet, processing what she'd just heard. "I was basically prophesied to be a disaster to this family at birth."

"No," Cyrus told her firmly. "That is far from the truth. Mother and Father are idiots to believe in such rubbish. Seers are nothing but deceivers, anyway." He paused when he noticed Corinne was still looking down at her feet and tilted her head upwards with his hand. "Don't let what I just told you get to your head. It does not diminish your worth to this family. The others may not see it, but you are the strongest witch I know, who is going to accomplish extraordinary things. But to do that, Corinne, you need to leave and never come back."

" _No_ ," Corinne protested adamantly. "I'm not leaving you behind, Cyrus. The only way I'll leave is if you come with me. To hell with the others. We're escaping this together."

Cyrus smiled sadly. "I wish we could, sis. But I'm too involved in this mess. If I run away with you, I'll put you in danger. That's the last thing I want, so I need to stay."

" _Cyrus_ , please don't-"

"Corinne, I have to."

"You're the only person in this family who gives a damn about me!" Corinne cried, not caring about raising her voice. "I'm not losing you! I already lost Grandfather Scovell!"

"You're not losing me," Cyrus promised, wrapping his arms around her. Corinne embraced her older brother tightly, as if this was the last hug she'd ever receive from him. "I can promise you that. Now I just need _you_ to agree to your promise to me."

Corinne didn't want to agree. She didn't want to abandon her brother in this hellhole of a house when their parents participated in something so nefarious. But she understood that the vile world that her family was apart of was not suitable for her, and that's why Cyrus wanted to keep her safe. Corinne had to respect his wishes. It was the least she could do for him after all he's done for her.

"Okay," she finally agreed, leaning away from the embrace to look at her brother. Uneasiness still bubbled in her chest. "I'll leave, and I promise that I'll never come back."

Cyrus's shoulder's visibly relaxed. He enveloped her in his arms again, squeezing her as he whispered, "Thank you."

Corinne smiled, glad to bring him comfort. She didn't know how long they stood there embracing. But neither of them minded; it would be a long time before they would get a chance to hug again.

"So when do I need to leave?" She immediately regretted asking. "Tonight?"

Cyrus pulled away, his features stern again. For the first time since she arrived, Corinne noticed how exhausted he looked. "You need to leave now. As soon as you can get away from Mother and Father, the better. Let's go find Tom."


	25. Comfort Me

_December, 1943_

After an overly thorough search of the Carrow vault, Tom reluctantly had to face the facts.

Salazar Slytherin's locket was not there.

Despite his confidence that he would find it, deep down he knew it was a long shot from the start. After all, it was merely a highly regarded rumor that the locket was in Cornelius Carrow's possession. But now that Tom had a new viewpoint of the kind of businessman Corinne's father was, it was decidedly unlikely that he owned an object of the locket's caliber. Even if he somehow did, there was the possibility that it was not inside the vault along with such inferior artifacts. Surely Cornelius Carrow was aware of the locket's worth.

Tom had to continue searching. He had the rest of the holidays to scour the entire three-story mansion. If there were more hidden compartments such as the vault, he would find them. Tom's yearning for the object that was rightfully his by blood fueled him like the magic that flowed through his veins. The locket would play a role in obtaining immortality.

Setting aside that very thought, which sent pings of excitement through him, Tom surveyed the strewn about artifacts within the vault, which he'd tampered with in the midst of his foraging. With a silent wave of his wand, he returned everything to its rightful place. As he turned to leave, something crunched underneath his shoe. He expected to find a broken trinket of some kind when he looked down to examine the damage. Instead, he'd stepped on a silver necklace with a strange triangular pendant.

Before Tom could get a look at it, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching the library. Without thinking, he quickly stuffed the necklace into his front pocket, then slipped out of the vault and shut the door just as Cyrus and Corinne entered. He moved to step away from the tapestry, acting natural, but froze as the two siblings approached him. Both appeared visibly distraught and shaken.

"Tom! There you are..." Cyrus's voice trailed off as he began to eye Tom suspiciously, glancing from him to the tapestry behind him.

But that wasn't what Tom was focused on.

"Corinne," he said, looking past Cyrus and staring at Corinne's bloodied mouth with pinched brows. "What happened to your face?"

Her lips wobbled as she tried to speak before she brought her hand up to her mouth self-consciously. She was clearly fighting back tears.

"Our father hit her," Cyrus said tightly, bringing Tom's attention away from Corinne.

Tom felt his hands clench into fists. " _What?_ "

"Our father hit her," Cyrus repeated, running a hand through his hair in agitation. "Which is why you two need to get the hell out of here and go back to Hogwarts."

Tom's eyes widened slightly, partly taken aback by the boy's irritability, a large contrast to his usual personality. He forced himself to nod in agreement, then looked back to Corinne. Her gaze was fixated out the window, her expression stony as though all the life had been sucked out of her. Tom felt compelled to ask if she was alright, but knew the question was pointless. Part of him also wanted to offer her comfort.

If only he knew how to do such a thing.

"When do we leave?" Tom asked without a beat.

"Now."

_Now?_ Tom felt a heavy weight of disappointment settle in the pit of his stomach. If he left, there was no way he could continue his search for the locket. What if there was a slim chance that it was somewhere in the mansion? But if Cyrus really believed Corinne was in danger if they remained there...

"Alright," he replied with much vacillation. "I'll go on and-"

"I'll handle the packing for the both of you," Cyrus assured, grimacing at Tom's protesting glare. "I'm afraid there's not much time. I don't want Corinne to get hurt more than she already has. It would be best if you two leave now, and I'll send your luggage to Hogwarts."

"Cyrus," Corinne started to say. "That's not necessary-"

"Sis, _please_." Cyrus and Corinne exchanged knowing looks, something Tom figured was common in all siblings, before nodding silently in agreement. Then Cyrus wrapped an arm around Corinne and brought her over to a nearby armchair, helping her sit as he said to Tom, "Tom, may I speak to you privately?"

Tom slowly nodded, allowing Cyrus to lead him to the other side of the library, out of earshot from Corinne. He listened intently for the other boy to speak.

Cyrus double checked to make sure Corinne wasn't listening before he leaned in closer, his voice low. "Can you Apparate on your own?" When Tom nodded, he breathed out in relief. "Brilliant. Okay, before Corinne and I came in here, we had a talk in the hallway. I made her promise me that she would never return here once she leaves. Now, I need _you_ to promise me something, Tom."

"Yes?" Tom raised an eyebrow, curious.

He watched as Cyrus leaned away, studying him for a moment before his serious gaze softened considerably. "Promise me you'll take care of Corinne. Don't let her come back here."

Tom searched for the right words, but none came to mind. What did Cyrus think he was to Corinne? A friend? A lover? Did Cyrus really expect that much out of him?

Compassion was a trait Tom lacked, so he rarely committed fully to promises. But Cyrus's promise was different, and he did not know why. Maybe he felt he owed it to Corinne's older brother. Or maybe he wanted to agree to it for his own selfish reasons.

Tom then realized something with a start.

If it weren't for him persuading Corinne to come home for the holidays, she would have never gotten hit by her father. She wouldn't be hurting as she was now. He was the one who made her venture out of her comfort zone for his personal endeavor.

He should feel no remorse. He should feel _nothing_ at all. Yet, he was feeling _something_. And that _something_ made him want to keep Cyrus's promise more than he wanted that damn locket.

"I promise," Tom said before he could take it back, swallowing his pride.

Cyrus shook his hand to seal the deal, and as Tom tried to walk away, he felt himself being pulled back again. The older boy stood behind him, his hand clasping his shoulder, much to Tom's discomfort of being touched. He heard Cyrus mutter close to his ear:

"Don't act innocent, because I saw you. I don't know what you were doing in my father's vault, nor do I care, quite frankly. But don't give me a reason to not trust you. I need you to protect my little sister."

* * *

Corinne would never forget the way Tom looked at her when she and Cyrus walked into the library. He watched her as though she were a fragile, fractured sculpture that was moments away from shattering completely. The last thing she wanted from him was pity.

What she did want was for him to hold her.

Before she and Tom prepared to Apparate, she felt Cyrus tug on her arm and usher her aside away from Tom. Her older brother appeared just as distressed about their agreement as she was. Corinne knew he was about to say goodbye to her for Merlin knows how long, and she honestly didn't know if she'd be able to handle it.

"Before you say anything," she said, wiping away a stray tear. "This isn't goodbye. Like you promised me, I'm not losing you. Keep in touch as much as you can. Write to me at least once a month. Promise?"

Cyrus chuckled. "We sure are making a lot of promises today. I don't know if I can keep up."

"You better," Corinne warned. "Also, I think you forgot one minor detail about the first promise I made to you."

"Which is?"

"I'm only sixteen," said Corinne pointedly. "I'm not legally an adult, so where am I to go once the term ends since you claim it's not safe to come back here?"

"I knew you'd ask that," Cyrus murmured softly, digging his hand into his back pocket, producing a parchment-colored envelope with a broken wax seal. The edges of it were slightly charred. "Sorry, I had to fish it out of the fireplace. Mother asked Tibble to throw it into the fire, but it's addressed to you. It's Grandfather Scovell's will."

Corinne's heart did a somersault as she snatched the envelope from her brother's hands. "Did you read it-?"

Cyrus nodded and grinned. "He left you everything, sis. His fortune, everything he owns. And best of all, he left you his flat in London. You can go live in it once you turn seventeen- OOF!"

Corinne giggled at the noise her brother made when she threw her arms around him, capturing him in an embrace so tight that his back popped. Tears of elation spilled from her eyes. Over Cyrus's shoulder, she could see Tom watching their display of affection with curiosity.

She felt Cyrus rubbing her back soothingly. "Looks like Grandfather Scovell is your guardian angel," he whispered.

"I have two wonderful men watching over me," Corinne said. "Grandfather _and_ you."

"I think you're forgetting someone else, sis," Cyrus said softly, glancing over her shoulder in the direction of Tom.

Corinne followed his gaze, then scoffed. "Tom is not watching over me."

"Keep telling yourself that," Cyrus joked, then his face grew serious again. "Speaking of Tom, can I give you a word of advice about him?"

"Cyrus, I can handle _Tom_ ," Corinne protested, crossing her arms over her chest. "He's not as big and bad as he makes himself out to be. He's just arrogant, narcissistic, egotistical, sometimes quite infuriating..."

"You're rambling," Cyrus interrupted, holding up his hand. "I'm serious. Just..." He paused, lowering his voice. "Just be wary of him, okay? And I don't mean this because I'm the older brother and I don't want my little sister getting hurt by a boy. Keep your guard up around Tom. He may be more than what he seems."

At that moment, Corinne did not understand what her brother meant. But she would learn soon enough.

* * *

Everything was black and Corinne was stretched and pulled in all directions until she and Tom stumbled onto slippery wet rock. Corinne yelped and jumped backwards when she lingered close to the edge of the towering sea cliff Tom had Apparated them onto. The air was salty and damp as seawater splashed around them. The sound of crashing waves was deafening, the sea heaving far below them. The giant rock they stood on seemed like a tiny, isolated mass in the vast, endless ocean beyond.

"Where are we?" Corinne yelled over the roaring water, spitting out her hair as it flew into her mouth. "Why did you bring us here?"

Tom produced his wand from seemingly nowhere, mumbling a spell that lowered the volume of the sea. Now Corinne could hear herself think.

"When I was young, the orphanage brought us to the seaside site near here on a holiday trip," Tom explained, clearly musing as he studied around them. Corinne halfway recalled him telling her this story when they were younger. "I found this place once while I was exploring. Now I come here sometimes when I need a peaceful place to think. I figured you needed that right now."

Corinne sighed, fixating her gaze on the rolling sea. "I'm fine, Tom."

"You're a terrible liar."

"How _original_ of you to say. Is that your go-to flirting method now? Calling me a liar?"

Tom rolled his eyes. "You wish, Carrow."

Corinne snorted, shaking her head in half amusement, half irritation. Truthfully, she wasn't much in the mood to bicker with Tom. She was emotionally and physically drained, and wanted nothing more than to crawl into her own bed and...

_Oh, right. I can't do that anymore._

She shook the thought away just as Tom reached up and gently brushed his thumb against the side of her bruised mouth, making her flinch from pain and surprise. "What are you doing?"

"This is probably a ridiculous question," he said, flattening his palm to cup Corinne's cheek. His skin was cool to the touch, sending a shiver down her spine. "But...are you alright?"

" _Yes_ , Tom, it doesn't even hurt anymore..."

"I'm not talking about your mouth." Tom brought his hand away, his eyes briefly searching Corinne's as though he were reading a book before they softened. "No, you're not."

Corinne avoided his gaze. "I don't want your pity. It's already bad enough that my own father hit me."

There was a brief pause. "No," Tom said finally. "But you do want to be comforted by me."

Corinne wasn't sure how he knew what she was thinking, or if her thoughts were just obvious by her expressions and actions. She also didn't know if she'd be able to conceal her hurricane of emotions a second longer.

So, she didn't. Corinne didn't hold back the choked sob that had been waiting to escape. Tom gathered her in his arms and held her, just as she'd been craving, running his slender hands up and down her back. She allowed herself to cry freely, reminiscing the moment her father's hand collided with her face, the moment beforehand when she was told Grandfather Scovell was dead, the heartbreaking promise she made to Cyrus on his behalf...

Corinne didn't know how long she and Tom stood embraced on the sea cliff. It could've been minutes; it could've been hours. Neither of them said a word, except for Tom's occasional soothing words of consolation in her ear.

Finally, when he pulled away, he pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek and whispered, "Let's go back to Hogwarts. We'll have some explaining to do for Dumbledore as to why we came back before Christmas."

Corinne didn't object, letting Tom take the lead, barely giving her enough time to brace herself before they Disapparated.


	26. Slightly Different Turn

_December, 1943_

Having now returned to Hogwarts after the short and disastrous day-and-a-half visit back home, Corinne was thankful for the sense of normalcy the school offered, which assuaged the memory of the events from days before. She hoped to put it all behind her and move on with her life. But that was easier said than done.

The first night back at school, Tom had offered to let her sleep on the sofa in the Room of Requirement. Corinne found this surprising and totally unlike him, but did not refuse. Hogwarts was bone-chillingly frigid that night, and the warmth of the room from the roaring fireplace was much too comfortable to leave. Of course still in a state of distress, she was not able to obtain a wink of sleep. It did not help knowing in the back of her mind that Tom was sleeping just a few feet away in his bedroom area, which he'd magically curtained off for privacy.

The next three nights were the same routine. Corinne continued to sleep on the sofa without having to ask, and Tom didn't have to offer a second time. As if sleeping in the same room was completely proper and natural for them. They were also breaking a number of school rules by doing this, which Corinne found kind of invigorating.

Now it was the fourth night, Christmas Eve, when things took a slightly different turn.

* * *

It wasn't long after Corinne fell asleep that nightmares came alive in her dreams. She stirred and whimpered as she dreamt of her parents yelling while beating her, with her siblings- even Cyrus- joining in on the heinous act. Grandfather Scovell also made a brief appearance, his dead corpse rotting in the background while Corinne was being tortured senselessly by her own family.

"Corinne."

A cold hand lightly touched her bare arm, startling her awake. Her body flew upright with a start, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. A cold sheen of sweat plastered the fine hairs at her hairline to her forehead and her pajama shirt to her back. Her eyes darted wildly around until she found Tom sitting directly beside her, causing her to let out a yelp. His hand was still wrapped around her arm, his cool fingers icy against her flushed skin.

"It's just me," Tom whispered, his thumb beginning to rub smooth circles on her arm. Quickly, he realized what he was doing and abruptly withdrew his hand, scooting away. "I heard you crying out in your sleep, so I came to..."

"Check on me?" Corinne supplied, giving him a small grin.

Tom nodded, not meeting her gaze.

Boldly, Corinne shifted closer to him, lifting her hand to set it on his shoulder when she froze, staring at his entirely bare arm. Her eyes raked over Tom's appearance, studying his choice of nightclothes. He wore a sleeveless white tank top that revealed his surprisingly muscular arms, the fabric clinging to him in a way that displayed the slopes of his chest and stomach, and also had on dark blue striped pajama bottoms. Corinne brought her attention to his arms again, each one corded with taut, sloping muscles. Bulging veins snaked down from his biceps to his wrists, stark blue against his ivory skin.

_So that's what's underneath that bulky school uniform he always wears,_ Corinne thought. She lasciviously wondered what Tom would look like if he weren't wearing the tank top...

"You're staring at me," he suddenly remarked, his eyebrows raised in amusement. "And thinking very indecent thoughts about me."

Corinne flushed deeply, horrified. She frantically shook away her borderline lustful thoughts, feeling as though Tom could read right through her. "I-I was not thinking _that way_ about you," she stammered, letting her hair fall on either side of her face to hide her reddened cheeks. When she heard Tom let out a low chuckle, she huffed in frustration and threw her head back. "Why do I even bother lying to you? Have you _looked_ at yourself? I mean, you're practically throwing yourself at me!"

"Excuses, excuses," Tom drawled, shaking his head. "It's okay to be attracted to me, Corinne. I know you have been for a while now."

Corinne snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. "Oh, please. Not as much as _you're_ attracted to _me._ "

"So you admit you're attracted to me."

Corinne watched as he leaned back against the sofa, stretching his arms above his head and clasping his hands behind his head. His biceps flexed as he did so. Her eyes lingered downwards to where his tank top rode up a bit, making her gulp. Tom's lips curled upwards smugly. She hated him and wanted him so much all in that one moment.

"Do you want me to be attracted to you Tom?" Corinne then asked daringly, her eyes locking with his. Somehow, she found herself inching towards him. Tom's lips parted, as though he were about to reply, as he started to lean also. Their breaths mingled as their noses touched and their lips barely brushed together...

A clock on the wall chimed sharply, making them both spring apart. Corinne mentally cursed the mechanical object, which she located above the fireplace. It was midnight.

"Merry Christmas, Corinne," she heard Tom say softly.

Corinne turned to face him again, chuckling lightly. "I didn't even realize it was Christmas Eve."

Tom didn't respond, but instead stood up and walked over to his desk situated over by the bookshelves. He opened one of the drawers and pulled something out, placing it on the desk while he rummaged for something else. Corinne recognized what was on the desk immediately, and her heart swelled.

"Is that the diary I got for you for Christmas in first year?" she asked, standing and walking over to get a closer look. She reached out to touch it, only to have Tom intercept her by clamping his hand around her wrist, slightly alarming her.

"Don't touch that," he murmured, before releasing her once he registered what he'd done. "You could say I'm a bit...protective of it. It's very valuable to me."

"I can't believe you still have it," Corinne replied, rubbing her wrist. "I figured you thought it was a rather silly Christmas gift back then and threw it away."

Tom exhaled through his nose. "I _did_ think it was a silly Christmas gift back then. But I kept it and didn't start using it until recently."

Corinne hummed in retort, curiously watching Tom as he dug through the drawer before finally pulling something out. He curled it up in his hand and turned to her again.

"What is that?" she asked him, inclining her head down to his closed hand.

"Your Christmas present," he answered simply, then interrupted Corinne before she could say anything. "Turn around."

Hesitantly, Corinne obeyed, turning her back to him. She heard a faint jingle before she gasped, feeling Tom's nimble fingers brush her hair away from her face. His arms then looped around her, placing a silver chain around her neck. A chill went up her spine as the cold metal of the necklace met the tender skin of her chest. Tom's fingers skimmed the sides of her neck as he withdrew his hands, making Corinne let out a shaky breath.

"You didn't have to get me a gift," she muttered as she composed herself. "I didn't even get you anything..."

"No, I didn't have to," Tom whispered, his lips millimeters away from her ear. Corinne nearly choked. " _But I wanted to._ "

Swallowing, she carefully lifted the pendent dangling from the chain, examining its intriguing design. At first she thought it was a simple triangle. But then she traced the shape with her finger, a triangle that enclosed a vertical line within a circle on the inside of it. She'd never seen anything like it. It was strange, yet beautiful.

"What an unusual necklace," she mused aloud, then spun around the face Tom, who was standing much closer to her than she had estimated. "Where did you find such a thing?"

Tom shrugged. "I don't recall. I just found it lying around and it made me think of you."

Corinne arched an eyebrow. "An unusual, triangular-shaped necklace made you think of me?"

"Well yes," stated Tom, then stepped impossibly closer to her, his gaze overpowering and full of desire. He picked up the pendent, his fingers inadvertently grazing across the beginning swell of her breast, making Corinne's heart leap in her chest. "Like this necklace, you are unique, mysterious, and you possess a story that has yet to be told. There's more to you than what there appears to be."

Corinne felt a hard lump form in her throat as she struggled to form words. It was impossible with Tom staring at her with the look of lust in his eyes. She couldn't restrain herself from closing the distance between them, gripping his broad shoulders as she crushed her lips onto his.

Tom wasted no time in grabbing her hips, pulling her flush against him. Corinne could feel the hard planes of his body and the sharpness of his hipbones through the thin material of her pajamas. They held onto each other as their lips attacked each other with bruising, hungry kisses. Corinne felt her pajama top ride up, giving Tom the opportunity for his hands to touch the bare skin at her waistline. She gasped at the contact, sliding her hands down his arms and gripping his flexing biceps, holding on for what seemed like dear life.

Suddenly, she felt her feet leave the ground as Tom hoisted her up, setting her down on her bottom rather roughly on top of the desk. His hands slid down her waist until they met the back of her thighs, wrapping her legs around him. Corinne's heart was racing at how quickly this was escalating, but didn't dare think about stopping it. Tom's lips then skimmed across her jaw, peppering hot kisses down her neck and the exposed skin around her shoulders and base of her throat that weren't covered by her disheveled top. Corinne let out an involuntary moan when his teeth nipped a spot near her ear.

And that's when everything stopped.

Tom's lips disconnected from her skin and his hands left her body as he immediately stepped away, an expression of horror and shock mixed with remaining lust. Corinne realized then that, like her, he had never done anything like they'd just done before. He was clearly contemplating what had just occurred and what it meant. With pinched brows, his eyes flickered down towards his lap, making Corinne blush deeply. She herself felt warmth bubbling in her abdomen.

Tom kept his head down, avoiding her gaze. His hands trembled as he demanded tightly, "Get out."

Corinne hopped down from the desk, desperately wanting to console him. "Tom..."

" _GET OUT!_ " he spat, this time his eyes meeting hers. They were filled with absolute fury and malice. The boy Corinne had witnessed only moments earlier was gone.

Despite her rumpled pajamas and knotted hair, she fled the Room of Requirement, not taking the risk to look back. Once Corinne slammed the doors, she turned and leaned back against them, sliding down to the floor. She wrapped her arms around her knees and buried her face in them, letting herself sob. This was her fault; she let herself get carried away. One thought revolved around in her mind.

_What if I just lost the last best thing in my life?_

* * *

_25 December, 1943_

_I cannot decide if I've made a critical mistake or one of the best decisions I've ever made._

_While sharing a somewhat intimate moment with Corinne, I experienced feelings that I never knew I could feel; feelings that I did not think were_ possible _for me to feel. I felt an overwhelming amount of desire and lust for her that I almost lost control of. What had happened could have escalated further into something that I never thought I wanted. This was beyond a normal attraction to a girl. And I find that very unsettling._

_The first Horcrux I made should have prevented this from happening. I shouldn't be feeling anything for Corinne. Why didn't the making of my first Horcrux rid myself of those feelings? I underwent the process of splitting my soul and I was extremely thorough with the spell. My mortal emotions should be nonexistent._

_So why do I find myself thinking about the delightful noise Corinne made when I nibbled at her neck?_

_I know what I must do. Now that I'm certain splitting my soul multiple times is possible, I need to do it again now that I am fully recovered from the first time. And it needs to be done as soon as possible._

_I was originally going save to strange triangular necklace I found at Carrow mansion and possibly make it into a future Horcrux. It strikes me as something potentially meaningful and valuable. But even after meticulous research of various rune books, I did not find anything about the symbol. So, I decided to give it to Corinne. Now I regret it._

_As I am writing this, I caught sight of the ring on my finger. Although it is a reminder of the necessary deed I did over the summer by killing my disgusting Muggle bastard of a father and his parents, it is the next valued object I own next to my diary. I must turn the ring into a second Horcrux. Once I do so, my intolerable emotions will be no more._

_Corinne Carrow will no longer impact me._

_\- T.M.R_


	27. New Year's Eve

_December, 1943_

Tom understood a vast majority of everything in the world that was logical. He could say this with complete and utter confidence. But something that had always stumped him was the reason why people celebrated birthdays.

Why would you celebrate being closer to death?

Turning seventeen was no milestone. To Tom, it was a wake up call. He's made far too many foolish mistakes during these past few months than he'd care to admit, all because of _her_.

Tom was prepared to put an end to his distractions tonight. After he splits his soul for a second time, more of his humanity will be lost, and he will no longer be able to feel anything. Then he can finally refocus on what matters most.

"My Lord," said Lestrange as he rose from his kneeling position, bringing Tom away from his thoughts. The boy bowed resolutely. "I have prepared the circle for you."

"That will be all then, Lestrange," Tom replied, watching with satisfaction as his follower scurried back to his place in the circle of Knights arranged around him. Each boy wore a black cloak with the hood pulled over their heads, standing as straight as soldiers at attention.

He began to pace around the neatly drawn circle he'd asked Lestrange to draw onto the floor with chalk, observing the boy's handiwork. Of course the simple job could have been executed with magic. But something about the sight of Lestrange on his hands and knees working meticulously- yet with trembling hands- to draw a perfect circle, knowing all too well he'd be punished severely if he failed, entertained Tom greatly. He decided the circle was adequate enough before taking out his wand, murmuring the levitation charm under his breath to move every bit of furniture in the Room of Requirement against the walls, creating space for his intentions. Next, he pulled the ring off his finger, giving it one last glance before placing it at the center of the circle.

"Tonight is yet another momentous occasion, my Knights," Tom spoke in a clear voice, now pacing before his followers. "I must disclose that I could not wait a day longer for this due to...certain circumstances. As you did the night of the 28th of September, you are here now to witness the next step of your Lord's secured immortality. Another portion of my soul will be extracted tonight to act as an anchor to life; a hindrance against death."

Tom paused to let this settle with the Knights. Little did he know that under the hoods that hid their faces were expressions of uncertainty and dread.

"As I warned you last time," he continued. "No one is to interfere while the process is occurring. I will be in _excruciating_ pain. No matter how much I writhe in distress or beg for it to stop, _do not_ intrude."

"Yes, my Lord," replied each Knight in unison.

"Then I shall begin."

Not a single ounce of hesitancy or doubt existed in Tom as he withdrew his wand from his robes, standing before the circle with determination. He was more than ready for this moment. He was prepared to be inhuman and all-powerful.

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as he poised his wand towards the ring, gathering complete concentration as he began to recite the long and complex incantation that he'd come to memorize. Tom chanted faster and faster as he repeated the spell several more times, his voice deepening and rising with volume. In his chest, he felt something that he could only assume was his soul twisting and fracturing by the second. The atmosphere of the Room of Requirement was so intense that the Knights couldn't help but shut their eyes and mentally pray for it to be over soon.

Then, everything was silent.

Not even a second later, Tom's wand exploded with blinding white light, his back arching in a sickening shape as he let out a guttural roar of agony.

* * *

Curfew had been extended for tonight only since it was New Years Eve, and while most of the remaining student body that stayed for the holidays were celebrating in their common rooms, Corinne was currently residing in the Great Hall, taking the opportunity to indulge in a heaping plateful of pudding. She couldn't think of a better way to spend the last few hours of 1943.

Well... _truthfully_ , she'd much rather be cozied up in the Room of Requirement with Tom. After all, it was his seventeenth birthday.

But ever since their _eventful_ meeting on Christmas morning, they hadn't spoken or even seen each other since then. This wasn't like the first time they'd briefly stopped communicating with each other because of their kiss on Halloween. Back then, they had only _kissed_. But on Christmas, they had entered a whole different territory that Corinne didn't even know how to describe without making it seem as though they were engaging in _bedroom_ activities. How were they supposed to continue being friends- or _whatever_ the bloody hell they were- after _that_ sort of thing?

Tom surely never wanted to see her again. He might as well remain in the Room of Requirement- which provided whatever he needed- and never come out.

And Corinne couldn't blame him. She was the one who let go of her inhibition and sense of propriety, prepared to give herself over to Tom like some sort of careless wench. Corinne knew she had more shrewdness than that. It was truly remarkable what one touch by Tom Riddle could do to her...

She shook the obscene thought away, clutching the triangle necklace around her neck that she hadn't taken off since Tom had given it to her. Not only did she keep it on because it was a gift from him, but the cool touch of the metal against her skin brought her ease. Jewelry had never really been her personal preference. Not until now. Although she didn't know the true story behind the odd triangular symbol, she would always associate it with Tom.

A loud screech suddenly reverberated throughout the Great Hall, startling Corinne. An owl, fairly small in size, flew into the room, swooping down directly towards her. As it neared, she realized with a grin whose owl it was from its distinguishable crooked right leg, caused by Caine and Clarice when they were younger, having decided to practice hexes on a flying target.

"Hello Avis," Corinne cooed lovingly once Cyrus's beautiful brown speckled owl landed on the table, dropping a package from its talons. Her eyebrows rose in surprise at the considerable size of the box. She picked it up and shook it, listening to its rattling contents. "Huh. Wonder what my brother sent me."

Corinne stroked Avis's feathers one last time before the owl hooted again and took off, staring at it longingly. For some reason, her parents had never let her get an owl of her own.

The box before Corinne caught her interest again, driving her to attempt to tear it open. Cyrus had sealed it shut with a large piece of masking tape. Impatient, she grabbed the knife by her plate and began stabbing the taped area until she was able to pull the flaps open.

Inside the box, the first thing she saw was a folded note. Corinne plucked it up and scanned it, tears brimming her eyes.

_'Dear Corinne,_

_Considering recent events, I know you must be having a tough time right now. So here's a few things Grandfather Scovell left you that I thought you'd like to have with you at Hogwarts. Some of the things are completely random. Write back as soon as you can, and I wish you well. Love you, Corinne._

_Best regards,_

_Cyrus Carrow_

_P.S. Tell Tom I said hello.'_

Corinne rolled her eyes at the last line and set the letter aside, peering inside the box. One by one, she began to pull out handfuls of peppermint candies, stacks of old photographs, small antique trinkets, and even some coins. Immediately, she unwrapped a piece of candy and popped it into her mouth as she thumbed through the black and white photos. Half were moving pictures, while the others were taken with a Muggle camera. She checked the backs of some of the photos for the dates.

_Henry and Odelia's Wedding_   
_30 June, 1895_

_Cressida Persephone Scovell_   
_Born 18 January, 1900_

_Cressida and Cornelius's Wedding_   
_16 May, 1918_

_Cyrus's First Birthday_   
_5 August, 1924_

Corinne found several old photos of her siblings and even ones of her mother and grandfather, but only few of herself. That's because a very scarce amount of childhood photos of her existed. She vaguely remembered her parents ever photographing her.

Setting the photos back inside the box, she faltered when she saw the last object inside. Her breath involuntarily hitched. She had been so sure it was gone forever.

Taking up the majority of the space inside the box was an old Muggle box camera, once belonging to Corinne's grandfather. For as long as she could remember, he'd always loved taking pictures. Some would call it an obsession. Corinne's mother didn't approve of her own father very much for his liking towards Muggle objects and trinkets; especially this camera. She was sure her mother had disposed of most of her grandfather's Muggle things a long time ago.

Corinne was thankful this small piece of her grandfather had survived all these years. Smiling, she held out the camera before her with lens facing out, adjusting her hands around its bulky frame just like she remembered her grandfather doing. Corinne fumbled for the button on the side, her fingers accidentally pressing it and taking a picture, the flash startling her. As this happened, the latch near the lens where the film was located came undone, spilling a tiny folded slip of paper. Puzzled, she unfolded the delicate, glossy paper and discovered it was a photo.

Even through all the creases and rips, Corinne could see it was a picture of herself as a toddler standing in her grandfather's lounge, her huge innocent eyes staring into the camera and her tuft of blonde hair stark white in the black and white color. On the back of the photo she expected the date of the photo, but instead found a scribbly mess of writing, which could only be her grandfather's. She recognized the famous Emily Dickinson poem:

_"'I'm Nobody! Who are you?_   
_Are you Nobody, too?_   
_Then there's a pair of us- don't tell!_   
_They'd banish us, you know.'"_

Corinne didn't even notice she was crying until her tears dripped onto the back of the photo, smearing the ink on the last line of the poem.


	28. Amortentia

_January, 1944_

1944 was already demonstrating itself to be eventful. The Second World War was still rampant across the European continent, wreaking devastation in the Muggle world. Tensions were just as high in the wizarding community. Grindelwald wasted no time to launch more attacks and mass slaughters. But at Hogwarts, it was just another year and another semester.

Even though lessons resumed two weeks ago, Corinne's mind was still on holiday mode. Each weekday morning she was met with the disheartening realization that she had school that day, when she would much rather remain curled up in bed- or now in her case, one of the plush green sofas in the Slytherin common room. Winter nights were much too brutal to withstand the broom cupboard any longer, even with a warming charm, so Corinne made the rather reluctant decision to find nightly refuge in the one place she vowed she would never return.

So far, none of her Slytherin peers have stumbled upon her while she slept in the common room every night. She was thoroughly careful to leave each morning before everyone woke up and to arrive late at night when everyone was up in their dormitories sleeping. Furtiveness was truly one of Corinne's gifts.

Corinne also started making the conscious effort to eat in the Great Hall everyday. Mostly for just breakfast, since it was the least busy mealtime, taking her lunch and dinner elsewhere to eat. Although there have been some days where she mucked up the courage to sit through all three meals, much to the delight of Euphemia Gates, who still made Corinne wonder why the girl was so fond of her. So much so that Euphemia chose today to sit by her at the Slytherin table for breakfast. Corinne tried to ignore the stares of her Slytherin peers watching her socialize in plain sight with a Gryffindor.

"Now Anya's gone mad for a 7th year Hufflepuff she's had her eyes on for a while," Euphemia rambled, filling Corinne in on the latest of everyone in her Gryffindor friend group. "She says he plays on their Quidditch team. The Keeper, I believe. She goes on and on about him when she doesn't even know his name!"

Corinne chuckled. "And what about Olivia? How is she holding up after...you know?"

Euphemia sighed, her expression crestfallen. "She won't talk to me, Corinne. I know she tends to keep her feelings to herself, but I'm worried about her. I can tell she _really_ likes Septimus."

Although she didn't know Olivia well, Corinne was still sympathetic for the poor girl. Last week, rumors spread that Septimus Weasley and Cedrella Black were caught snogging by a teacher in an empty corridor. It was quite the scandal, and came as a shock to many. The couple became official later that week, and according to Euphemia, Olivia was heartbroken.

"Olivia probably just needs time..." Corinne's voice trailed off when the volume in the Great Hall abruptly dwindled. Everyone's gazes were fixed towards the entrance, where none other than Tom Riddle strolled into the room with his followers. Her heart somersaulted.

This was the first time he'd set foot in the Great Hall in weeks. Why he chose today to come back, Corinne didn't know. The only time she ever saw Tom anymore was in class, but even during those times he didn't seem like himself. He was more reserved than usual, more detached from what was around him. Tom acted like a different boy who didn't bother anymore to acknowledge who she was.

While his acting this way was nothing new, Corinne couldn't shake the feeling that there was another reason for his behavior that wasn't just because of their encounter on Christmas.

"Ah, the king and his loyal servants return to their people," Euphemia mused, her lips curled up in amusement. "Wonder what _evil deeds_ he's been up to."

Corinne stared at Euphemia, momentarily confused. "What?"

Euphemia laughed, placing a hand on Corinne's shoulder. "I'm only joking, Corinne. I didn't know Riddle was such a sensitive subject for you."

Corinne ignored Euphemia's last statement, instead her attention drew back to Tom. Not only was he acting different, but he _looked_ different. The bones structuring his face were more prominent, his cheeks more hollow. Purplish rings tinged the underside of his eye sockets, noticeable against his paler-than-usual skin. His eyes were dark and apathetic.

Tom seemed so _empty_.

"He looks dreadful," Corinne inadvertently whispered aloud, concern filling her heavily like concrete had been infused inside her.

"He does," Euphemia agreed, offering a second of empathy before adding, "But on the bright side," she picked up Corinne's class schedule for second semester off the table. "We've got Defense Against the Dark Arts _and_ Potions together this semester."

Corinne pretended to be excited while she snuck another quick glance at Tom. Abraxas Malfoy had said something that made Tom smirk ever so slightly.

Even Tom's smirk was lifeless.

* * *

After listening to Professor Slughorn drone on about the characteristics of Polyjuice Potion and scribbling a parchment full of notes- all while trying not to doze off- a surprise pop quiz was then passed out. Corinne was tempted to bang her head on the table in frustration. School had that effect on her.

Of course Tom finished his first, while Corinne was stuck on the first question, struggling to recall what to do once you reached the second part of brewing Polyjuice Potion. Why does the recipe have to have so many damn steps?

Embarrassingly enough, Corinne was the last one to finish her quiz. She estimated she got less than half of the questions correct.

"Now then, quills down," said Slughorn, waving his wand, causing everyone's quizzes to fly over to his desk and arrange themselves in a neat pile. "We still have some time left, so I would like to show you all something I brewed for my 7th year class next period. Doesn't hurt to get a head start, yeah?"

The professor made his way to the front of the classroom to a tall cabinet, opening it and using his wand to levitate a heavy-looking gold cauldron out of it, moving it carefully over to his desk. The large cauldron was closed off with a lid, protecting its contents. Steam spewed from the edges of the lid. Muffled bubbling could easily be heard. Professor Slughorn removed the lid with a flourish as though he were presenting some sort of surprise.

Instantly, the most pleasant, seductive aroma Corinne had ever smelled emitted from the cauldron, along with an odd shimmering vapor that filled the room with a haze. The potion smelled even better than the sweet, pepperminty scent of the Elixir to Induce Euphoria. She inhaled the potion's fragrance deeply, filling her with a wave of serenity.

Beside her, Tom stiffened, his knuckles turning whiter as his fingertips dug into the table. His jaw was set tightly, his expression somber. Whatever he was smelling must've not been the pleasurable aroma Corinne was inhaling.

"Can anyone tell me what this potion is?" Slughorn inquired, chuckling lightly at everyone savoring the potion's scent.

Corinne expected Tom to raise his hand and answer breezily, per usual. But he remained silent and emotionless, glaring at the cauldron with indifference.

Out of the corner of her eye, Corinne saw Euphemia's hand shoot in the air. "Amortentia, sir."

"Yes, Miss Gates!" Professor Slughorn exclaimed. "Can you tell me what it does?"

"It is the most powerful love potion in the world," Euphemia answered with ease.

Corinne noticed Tom's hands clench into fists when _love potion_ was mentioned. She wondered why that triggered anger in him.

"Excellent! Ten points to Gryffindor!" Slughorn clapped, then used the stirring rod he'd placed in the cauldron to stir the potion a bit as he further explained, "Yes, as Miss Gates stated, Amortentia is indeed the most powerful love potion in the world. And a highly dangerous one, at that. It causes a powerful infatuation or an obsession from one who drinks it. Despite its ability, the potion cannot create _actual_ love. That would be impossible! Now, one of its most distinctive features is its multi-faceted scent, which smells different for each person depending on what attracts them. Miss Gates, would you like to demonstrate this for the class?"

Euphemia blushed slightly before nodding, standing and walking over to the cauldron. Just as Slughorn requested, she leaned over the Amortentia potion and inhaled, grinning dazedly as she brought her face away.

"What do you smell, Miss Gates?" Slughorn asked her.

"It's strange," said Euphemia, seemingly in a dreamlike trance. "I smell fresh soil and something really sweet, like candy floss...and a cologne of some sort..." Her eyes darted to the back of the classroom, where Fleamont was sitting, and her cheeks reddened considerably. Corinne couldn't stifle her smile.

"Very good, very good," Slughorn beamed, gesturing for Euphemia to go sit back down. "Now, I want everyone to smell the potion for themselves..."

With a flick of his wand, the cauldron levitated in the air again and landed on the center table in the front row. Next it would move to their table. Corinne risked another glance at Tom, who was clearly uncomfortable with Professor Slughorn's proposition. His fists kept clenching and unclenching, albeit his face blank. Corinne couldn't contain her eagerness to inhale the Amortentia's aroma again.

She wondered what she would smell. What _Tom_ would smell.

With a heavy plunk, the cauldron finally rested before them. Tom made no move to lean forward to smell it first, so Corinne did the honors. She inched her face into the spiraling swirl of fumes- the liquid's pearly sheen reflecting along the rims of the cauldron- allowing the fragrance to waft up her nostrils. At first she could discern nothing but sweetness, but then different scents began to isolate themselves. She smelled the fresh papery odor of books, the smokiness of fire that reminded her of the fireplace in the Room of Requirement, and for some reason, the murkiness of algae from the Black Lake...

And something else. _Someone_ else. And he was sitting right beside her, his own unique, clean scent now permanently engrained in her mind.

Tom did not lean forward, but instead remained well away from the cauldron, closing his eyes as she seemed to be taking in the scent. Not even a second later, he opened his eyes, indicating for Professor Slughorn to move the cauldron to the next table. Again, Corinne could not decipher what he could possibly be feeling.

Her curiosity got the better of her. "What did you smell?"

It was the first thing either of them had said to each other in weeks. _What did you smell_ , of all things Corinne could have said.

Tom did not look at her. He didn't say anything for a few, but long, seconds. Corinne thought he was ignoring her, until she heard him say lowly, "Nothing _._ "

* * *

When class was dismissed, Tom lingered behind, waiting for the last student to exit the classroom. When he was sure he was alone, he walked over to the cauldron which now lay on Professor Slughorn's desk. He _had_ to have been imagining it before when he first smelled it. He shouldn't have been able to smell _anything_ in the first place. His soul has now been split twice, for one, and because he was conceived under the circumstances of a love potion, it was impossible for Tom to feel love, or for Amortentia to have any effect on him.

And yet, he could have sworn he smelled something. For the first time in his life, he wanted to be wrong.

Tom breathed in deeply, letting the potion's aroma fill him extensively. At first, he smelled nothing, and was relieved. Before he could turn away, a familiar scent made him freeze. He realized with horror that no, he was not imagining it before. Amortentia was making him smell something.

"Something wrong, Tom?" Professor Slughorn asked, making Tom immediately step away from the cauldron. He hadn't realized the professor was still in the room. "Just out of curiosity, what does the potion smell like for you?"

Tom swallowed, his eyes flickering back to the simmering potion before replying, "Peppermint, sir."


	29. Dumbledore's Warning

_31 January, 1944_

_I realize now that it has been over a month since I last wrote. You could concur that my mind has been elsewhere._

_Adjusting to my now twice-fractured soul has been a journey in itself. I no longer feel a thrill in small activities such as learning and divulging myself in a book, although the delight in intimidating my lesser peers still remains. I will never grow tired of the fear in their eyes as I pass them in the corridors; the way they scatter to make way for me. As they rightfully should._

_I thirst for more authority. I crave more power. I long to make every wizard in the world cower at the very thought of me. The desire to kill off every Muggle and Muggleborn abomination that crosses my line of vision grows stronger every waking minute. It's almost overwhelming how much I yearn to do so._

_Gillert Grindelwald, a man I have come to admire throughout this war, believes wholeheartedly that wizards and witches are entitled to dominate Muggles. He was willing to start a worldwide wizarding revolution just to fortify his cause. While I agree with his reasonings, I do not believe he will be the one to obtain complete supremacy. Grindelwald lacks what I will soon have._

_Everlasting life and absolute indestructibility._

_\- T.M.R_

* * *

_February, 1944_

"Miss Carrow."

Corinne's hands faltered from where she was collecting her things, ready to depart from Transfiguration. She looked up at Professor Dumbledore, who was watching her expectantly from his desk, his long fingers clasped together before him. "Yes, sir?"

"May I have a brief word with you?" Dumbledore asked while rising from his chair, his voice calm despite the unsettling genre of question. His spectacles glinted brightly in the ray of morning sunshine that gleamed through the high stained glass windows, momentarily blinding Corinne.

"Of course, sir," Corinne said steadily, though she couldn't shake her apprehension that she'd done something wrong. It was hard to tell by his demeanor, since the professor was perpetually in a serene state.

From his strawberry-colored robes, Dumbledore produced a small tin that rattled as he placed it on his desk, gingerly prying off the lid and popping one of its contents into his mouth. Noticing Corinne watching him, he held out the tin so it was in her reach. "Lemon drop, dear?"

Fond of all types of candy, Corinne didn't decline his offer and took one. Her face puckered at the candy's tartness.

"Sit, if you will," Dumbledore instructed, nonverbally levitating a chair and placing it in front of his desk. Also wandlessly, he shut the door of the classroom and cast the _Muffliato_ charm on it, insisting they needed privacy for her sake. Corinne nodded and sat down in the chair, her posture stiff and tense.

"Is everything all right, professor?" she asked.

"Oh yes," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling kindly. "You're not in trouble, Miss Carrow. No need to worry!" As soon as Corinne let out a breath of relief, his voice lowered as he added, "I only meant to ask about your wellbeing."

Corinne blinked, nearly choking on the lemon drop. "What do you mean?"

Dumbledore studied her for a moment in a way that reminded her of the way Tom looked at her sometimes; as though he were reading her thoughts. It made her fidget in her seat.

"Be truthful with me, Miss Carrow," said the auburn-haired professor, tilting his head down so he could peer at her over his glasses. "How are you?"

Corinne didn't know how to answer him. Why was he concerned about her in the first place? She knew Professor Dumbledore was no fool. But she liked to think her feelings were obscure to others. Was it really that obvious that for this past month, she'd let herself fall so deep into a hole of depression and worry that was eating away at her from the inside, that it was beginning to affect her way of life?

All because of Tom Riddle. He'd yet again gone into isolation and stopped speaking to her. It's been over a month. Corinne was sick of this becoming a regular routine for them. _Whatever_ they were- whatever kind of twisted form of a relationship they had- was seemingly impacting them both like an incurable plague.

"Miss Carrow?" said Dumbledore softly, snapping Corinne away from her thoughts. His kindhearted gaze was filled with concern. Corinne hadn't realized she'd began crying.

"I'm okay," she told him hastily, wiping her tears away and swallowing the pea-sized remainder of the hard candy in her mouth. "I'm okay. Just stressed, is all."

"Stressed," Dumbledore repeated, eyeing her skeptically. "That wouldn't be because of your family, would it?"

Corinne stiffened. "How do you-?"

"I received a letter a few weeks ago from someone who cares about you very much, briefly explaining a concerning situation that occurred over the holidays," Professor Dumbledore explained. "And I was specifically asked to watch over you. Can you guess by whom?"

"My brother Cyrus," Corinne replied, smiling teary-eyed at the very thought of him.

Dumbledore nodded. "And what a good brother you have. I always liked him during his years here at Hogwarts."

Corinne toyed with her hands. "So you know about my father-?"

"You don't have to say any more, dear," said Dumbledore gently, holding up his hand. "I'm already aware, and I hold an utmost sympathy for you. I am willing to do anything in my power to help you. The safety and wellbeing of _all_ my students is something I am very passionate towards."

Corinne was almost tempted to embrace her favorite professor and cry into his shoulder. She wished there were more teachers in Hogwarts who were like him. "T-That means a lot to me, sir. Thank you."

Dumbledore then cocked his head to the side, scrutinizing her again. "That's not all that is troubling you, is it Miss Carrow?"

Corinne's breath hitched. "Why do you suspect that, professor?"

Instead of giving her a straightforward answer, he leaned forward in his chair, his brilliant blue eyes making intense, direct eye contact. "I need you to listen very carefully to what I'm about to advise you. Just as your brother wished, I have kept a vigilant eye on you. I've noticed that you and Tom Riddle fraternize quite often, as friends tend to do. And this has been occurring all year, yes? I daresay, you two have gotten relatively close. Am I correct about my observations?"

_Close isn't even the beginning of it_ , Corinne thought to herself. Reluctantly, she forced herself to nod, her gaze downcast.

Dumbledore offered a small smile, as though he knew a secret that she didn't, then turned earnest. "I see. While I encourage friendships of all kinds, I'm afraid I must be the bearer of caution regarding you and Mr. Riddle's _particular_ relationship."

Corinne felt her face pale. This reminded her terribly of when Cyrus had given her the warning before she left Carrow mansion that she needed to be wary of Tom. Was Professor Dumbledore going to tell her the same thing?

"I've already been told to be heedful of him," Corinne said.

"As you should be."

"But why must I?"

Dumbledore's tone was firm yet calm, as though he were giving a lecture to one of his classes as he began to explain. "Mr. Riddle is a complicated, curious young man. I'm sure you're aware of this already. He's always been an extraordinarily powerful young wizard for as long as I've know him. One of the best that I've ever taught, in fact. But he is also one of the most troubled."

Corinne did not like the direction this conversation was turning.

"You see, when I first met Mr. Riddle at his orphanage when he was eleven years old, even then I sensed something in him. A certain darkness inside him that seemed much too malevolent to be stirring inside a mere boy. I kept a watchful eye on him since he began attending Hogwarts, and I fear that the darkness I discerned in him then will only grow more rampant. You've known him since you two were first years, yes? Surely you must have noticed he is not an ordinary boy."

"He's not," Corinne whispered.

Dumbledore inclined his head thoughtfully. "Given his reserved nature, I find it most curious that he has companioned himself with you the way he has. I used to believe that Mr. Riddle has never wanted a friend. Not until he met you."

_Not until he met you._ There were many ways Corinne interpreted this. She used to believe that Tom would never want any sort of companionship with anyone. She used to believe that he would never want to, or think about, kissing a girl. She used to believe that he would never want to touch a girl in a way that only lovers do.

Would he be different, if it were anyone but her?

"Sir, why must I be wary of Tom?" Corinne asked again, her voice wavering.

Dumbledore was silent for a moment, seemingly piecing together his words. Finally, he inhaled deeply before bluntly stating, "My assumption may be very wrong, but from what I've gathered on Mr. Riddle throughout the years, studying his actions and behavior, I'm afraid he has the capability of doing dangerous things. And I want to warn you, Miss Carrow, to remain attentive around him. I admit that I do not yet know what he is planning to do, but it is _something_. I can see it in his eyes. He reminds me of when I was a great deal younger. I recognize a strong desire for power when I see it."

Corinne had trouble digesting this. She was aware of Tom's dark character. She knew him better than probably anyone else. But why were Cyrus and Dumbledore under the impression that she was in danger because of Tom? He would never hurt her.

She had difficulty believing Dumbledore's concern since it was based off of only gut instinct. Part of Corinne refused to believe that Tom secretly had diabolical motives, which she'd suspected several times before. But she was also intrigued.

Corinne was willing to find out for herself who the real Tom Riddle was under all his layers of reserve.

"I will stay alert, professor," she assured Dumbledore, and herself.

"Very good," he replied approvingly, then rose again from his seat, gesturing for Corinne to stand also. "I apologize for keeping you this long. I shall write you a note for Professor Merrythought. I have heard she isn't as lenient as I am with late students."

"Thank you, sir," said Corinne, accepting the note from him gratefully.

Dumbledore winked, then caught sight of her necklace, which she hadn't realized she'd been fidgeting nervously with throughout the conversation. With a sting, it made her think of Tom. Wearing the triangle necklace had become a part of her everyday dress. "What an interesting necklace you've got there. May I see it?"

Nodding, Corinne pulled the necklace's chain over her head, wincing when it got snagged in her hair, and handed it to Dumbledore. It pooled into his palm before he carefully dangled the pendant in front of him, handling it with care as if it was a small animal. Corinne watched as suddenly, Dumbledore's expression deadpanned as he gazed at the pendant with a flicker of recognition.

"Sir?" Corinne said hesitantly. "Do you know what that symbol means?"

"Where did you get this?" Dumbledore demanded calmly, his eyes still fixated on the necklace.

Corinne blushed. "Tom gave it to me."

"Where did _he_ get it?

"I'm not sure, sir. Is there something wrong?"

Dumbledore shook his head, seeming to snap out of whatever recollection of memory he was having. He handed the necklace back to Corinne. "Nothing at all, Miss Carrow. I'm just curious. But that is quite a unique necklace you've got there. Never seen anything like it."

Corinne could tell the professor wasn't telling the truth, but she didn't want to pry. The necklace was just a really strange necklace, right? So instead of further questioning, she bid Dumbledore goodbye and was almost out the door when she heard him say something else.

"Miss Carrow, you remind me greatly of a student I was, and still am, very fond of when he attended Hogwarts."

"Who?"

Dumbledore's eyes glinted with pride. "His name is Newt Scamander."

Corinne had to think for a moment before she recalled the familiar name. "The author of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ , sir?

"The one and only!" beamed Dumbledore.

"Why do I remind you of _him_?"

"While both of you are the type that tend to keep to themselves," Professor Dumbledore explained, locking eyes with her. "I also sense the same vitality in you that I once saw in Mr. Scamander. Like him, I believe you will achieve great things in this world. And in order to do so, I will give you one last word of advice that I once told him."

Peering over his spectacles again, the professor spoke clearly and resolutely:

"Do not let the wrong sort deter you from striving for what you think is right."


	30. Glimpse of the Monster

_February, 1944_

Rarely was Tom ever afflicted by dreams and nightmares. When he slept, he slept with the ease and composure in which he carried himself when he was awake.

So it came as a troubling shock when he started having a repetitive dream that replayed in his sleep every night for a week straight. To his dismay, they continued to feature the one person Tom confidently believed was finally free from his thoughts. But like a stubborn parasite clinging to its host, she somehow remained entangled in his life.

* * *

_The dream always began in the same sequence. Tom could smell and feel the dampness in the air before he opened his eyes, revealing the dimly lit and cavernous Chamber of Secrets. Despite its gloominess, the chamber brought him a great reminiscence of when he first opened it almost a year ago. Oh, the pride he felt for being able to control the Basilisk that lurked within, fulfilling the great Salazar Slytherin's quest to eradicate Muggleborns from Hogwarts by setting the beast loose on the school. Unfortunately, the one casualty that almost had Hogwarts closed down thwarted his plans._

_Tom still had faith someone in the future would carry on Slytherin's noble work._

_But what was he doing in the Chamber of Secrets now? Wasn't it unsafe to enter now that Dumbledore was suspicious of him?_

_"Tom, there you are!" came a familiar voice at the end of the long chamber. Tom could barely make out the figure running towards him._

_Footsteps slapped loudly against the wet floor as the figure- a girl, Tom realized- sprinted down the path. He began walking forward, trying to get a better look at the girl. Tom briefly acknowledged the massive sleeping form of the Basilisk as he passed it, its body coiled around so its head rested on top. Not even the dead body of the Mudblood girl- who laid gruesomely next to the Basilisk- murdered in the girls' bathroom a year ago bothered him as he continued on. That's when he was able to recognize the girl's face as she neared._

_Tom realized with a start that it was Corinne._

_She finally reached him and leapt into his arms, the impact causing him to lose his balance on the slippery floor and fall backwards, landing flat on his back with Corinne on top of him. She giggled, raising her head from Tom's chest to gaze down at him, brushing her nose against his. A strange fluttering feeling erupted inside him._

_"I've missed you," Corinne whispered, her hot breath tickling Tom's face, causing him to shiver. The way she was looking at him, her eyes dancing with want in the darkness of the chamber, her body pressed flush against his, was driving him mad with each passing second._

_Tom couldn't stop himself from grasping the back of Corinne's neck and closing the little space that was left between them, capturing her lips hungrily with his. She responded with the same eagerness, her tongue immediately darting out to taste him. Tom let out a deep groan when Corinne's fingers wove themselves in his hair, tugging ever so slightly. His hands found her lower back, pulling her impossibly closer. Whatever was happening, Tom did not want it to stop, no matter how much he told himself that this was wrong._

_"Tom," said Corinne, breaking apart to look down at him again, her eyes still closed in bliss. "I lo-"_

_Before she could finish, Corinne opened her eyes, her face contorting in horror as she let out a terrified scream._

_She scrambled off of Tom frantically, stumbling and slipping to get away from him. "Please don't kill me!" she begged, holding her hands out in front of her as though Tom were going to strike her. "I-I'll do anything, just please don't kill me!"_

_Suddenly having no control over his actions, Tom withdrew his wand and pointed it at Corinne. She screamed again and began sobbing, desperately searching herself for her wand that she seemingly did not have with her. When Corinne tried to stand and run the opposite way, the Basilisk blocked her path, nearly killing her with its gaze if she hadn't shrieked and quickly looked away. Now she was weaponless and completely vulnerable. Tom let out a wheezy laugh that sounded inhuman._

_"Tom, I know you're in there!" Corinne cried, pleading for her life. "Please don't do this! I love-"_

_"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Tom hissed in a voice that sounded nothing like his own. Corinne didn't have time to scream before the blinding green light of the Killing Curse hit her square in the chest, her face freezing in permanent terror as her body stiffened and collapsed onto the chamber floor with a sickening thump._

_Tom strode over gracefully to examine Corinne's dead body, smiling with satisfaction. He then caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of a puddle and took in his startling appearance._

_The face staring back at him was not the young face of Tom Riddle, but a bald, reptilian-looking_ _, skeletal-like_ _man with chalk-white skin and glowing red eyes._

_Unknowingly, this was the first glimpse of the monster he would eventually become._

* * *

Tom jolted awake, his heart hammering painfully in his chest as he sat upright in bed, taking a moment to slow his breathing. His forehead, back, and chest were slick with sweat, causing him to kick the covers away. Every night for the past week, this same process occurred. Tom did not enjoy the fact that something as pathetic as an imaginary hallucination of the mind has continually startled him out of slumber.

Certain images from the dream played back in his head. The detailed visual of the Chamber of Secrets, Corinne running towards him, Corinne falling on top of him and kissing him senselessly...

Tom shook the last thought away, even though it had caused his face to heat up and his abdomen to twist in a way that he could only describe as a raging cyclone.

But this time, the dream was vaguely different. Usually it ended right before he was about to kill Corinne. He hadn't expected to witness the moment the Killing Curse hit her in the chest, her body dropping to the floor in a slow motion-like state. If it were anyone else, Tom wouldn't have minded watching them die. In fact, he probably would have rather liked it.

Corinne was a different story. The sight of her dying right before Tom's eyes deeply troubled him. He never wanted that to happen in real life. Almost as much as he wanted to live forever.

Another thing disturbed him. _He_ was the one who killed Corinne in the dream. _He_ was the one who ignored her desperate pleads to spare her life. _He_ murdered her in cold blood, and even laughed as he did so.

It was just a dream. But what does something like that mean? Why did it bother him so much?

_It's because you're afraid that you're going to hurt her_ , a part of him thought. _You fear that possibility almost as much as you fear death._

No. Tom Riddle feared _nothing_.

The thought of a person dying was usually not even enough to make him blink. Imagining himself murdering someone was as though he were planning a casual stroll. Placing Corinne in that situation seemed unthinkable.

She was the first person in Tom's life who showed that she truly cared about him. She was his first companion- his _friend_. His _something more_. And she did not fear him as everyone else did. Based on that, Corinne's lack of fear of him may very well be her downfall.

With his soul split twice and placed into two Horcruxes, Tom somehow _still_ felt something for her. Not as strong as before, but it was still there. And it was growing again. This wasn't supposed to be happening. Removing his humanity was supposed to fix everything.

And yet, maybe the Horcruxes weren't enough. He could make ten of them and be nothing but a soulless monster and still feel a tiny sliver of something for Corinne Carrow. What if there was no cure for whatever he was feeling?

The _whatever_ feeling grew clearer and clearer. It teased the back of his mind, taunting him. Though he would never dare admit it to himself. Because he was not meant to feel it or understand it.

_But what if you are? The impossible can always become possible._

Tom hadn't realized he'd been clutching the sheets so hard until he heard them rip. Sighing, he pushed them away and climbed out of bed, standing before a mirror. It was evident that making a second Horcrux had changed him not just mentally, but physically. He was thinner, paler, his facial features harsher and sharper. The whites of his eyes were blood-shot, as though he hadn't slept in weeks.

His gifted physical appearance was a small price to pay for immortal life.

Suddenly, Tom remembered the snake-like man from his dream. Who was he? How did he become so hideous and monstrous? Was the dream prophetic, warning Tom that someone else was going to kill Corinne? Then, he had an unsettling thought.

What if Tom was going to become that man?

The thought was alarming, yet somehow thrilling. With a frightening presence like that, he would surely be feared by many. He would be able to proceed in obtaining power and immortality, dominating over Muggles, exterminating the Muggleborn race, ruling all wizard-kind.

But alas, this wasn't his entire focus.

Hatred and darkness consumed Tom's heart from the moment he was born. There was no cure for that. But the ongoing confusion of what he was feeling and the unknown missing piece in his heart had only one cure. And she was what he dreamt about each night.

Corinne was his only antidote.


	31. I Need You

_February, 1944_

The month of February was always melancholic for Corinne. Perhaps it was the romantic theme that seemed to waft through the air like a sort of poison, leaving the entirety of the Hogwarts student body utterly lovesick and bonkers. Corinne liked to make fun of those "struck by Cupid's arrow" to herself.

Though nowadays she felt herself sinking further and further into a swamp of despondency. And the cause could only be directed to one person.

Corinne trusted Dumbledore's judgement enough that she tried to force herself to forget about Tom. Fraternizing with a boy who was suspected of inevitable darkness would lead to no good. So far, all Corinne has gotten out of it is confusion and mixed feelings. She couldn't bear to have her heart toyed with anymore. That was all she was to Tom Riddle; nothing but a toy that could be put away and taken out to play with anytime he wished.

But the undefinable _thing_ she had with him couldn't simply be shoved in the back of her mind. Having Tom in her life somehow made her feel as though she meant something to someone, even if it was just a small fraction and only temporary. Without Tom, Corinne only had Cyrus to love her. Love that came from a sibling.

And that just wasn't enough. Corinne wanted more from the one person she was afraid couldn't provide her with it.

She just needed to learn to accept that.

* * *

Skipping lessons to avoid someone wasn't the most ideal decision. Corinne knew she was being ridiculous, as she was already close to failing the classes she purposely missed. But most days, she just couldn't impel herself to face Tom. Corinne knew one look at that stupidly handsome face of his would cause her to break the oath she made to herself to forget about him.

She spent several times a week hiding in the empty library during the classes she had with Tom. So far- two weeks later- Corinne hadn't been caught, and none of the professors had thought to come to her and ask where she's been during their lessons. Surprisingly, not even Dumbledore. Corinne told herself that surely he's been busy and checking on her hadn't crossed his mind. Still, she couldn't shake her disappointment.

Corinne decided to pass the time by writing in her diary. She hadn't done that in months, since Olive Hornby had stolen it and read it to everyone in the Slytherin common room back in September. Ever since then, writing in the diary no longer felt safe, despite the charm Corinne placed on it that only allowed her to open it.

She rummaged through her schoolbag, which she also hadn't paid much attention to in months, allowing clutter to fill it such as balled-up bits of old parchment, broken quills, candy wrappers, and even crumbs from various foods she'd smuggled out of the Great Hall. Corinne didn't like to consider herself messy- even if she was- but the state of her bag made her nose wrinkle in disgust.

"Bloody hell," Corinne whispered to herself, dumping the contents of the bag onto her lap, as quietly as she could. She winced when a thick book tumbled out and smacked loudly against the floor, creating an echo. Corinne held her breath, listening for footsteps that could be on their way to find her. Faintly, the librarian's snores was the only sound that could be heard.

Sighing out in relief, Corinne picked up the book and studied it curiously. The first thing she noticed was its sinister title: _Magick Moste Evile_. ' _Property of Hogwarts Library'_ was stamped in gold on its leather-bound spine.

Then, it hit her. Corinne remembered checking out this book from the Restricted Section two months ago. For what reason she borrowed a volume about the Dark Arts, she strangely couldn't recall. Why was her memory of it so foggy? The recollection itched at the back of her mind, although Corinne couldn't interpret it.

This happened fairly recently. Why was she having so much trouble remembering it?

Corinne's fingers found a thin crevice along the pages of the book, allowing her open it. The page she landed on was folded down at the corner, clearly marked for a reason. Her eyes skimmed the yellowed page until she came upon an underlined word.

_ Horcrux _

The word triggered something in her memories. Corinne remembered writing in the book. She recognized it, but didn't know why she had underlined it. A bizarre chill went down her spine as she reread it over and over again, trying to grasp any sort of reminiscence. It was as though something in her mind was preventing her from remembering.

"Corinne."

Corinne let out a shriek, accidentally ripping the page of the book while knocking her head back against the bookshelf she was leaning against. Mortified, her cheeks flaming, she looked up at the figure now hovering above her and was prepared to explain herself when she realized who they were and stopped breathing.

Tom casually leaned his shoulder against the shelf, his arms crossed cooly as he gazed down at Corinne with clear amusement. His smirk widened as she gaped at him, as though Merlin himself had walked into her presence.

Corinne spluttered, her mouth bobbing open and closed rapidly, though only broken phrases spewed out. "W-What are you...Tom...why...what-?"

Tom tilted his head back and laughed lowly. "I know I have a tendency to leave people speechless, but I never knew it could be _this_ enjoyable."

Corinne stared up at him incredulously, completely stunned. They hadn't spoken since the Amortentia incident in Potions last month, and now he was trying to have a casual conversation with her in the library?

She didn't know what to say other than, "What the _hell_ are you doing here?"

Tom shrugged. "I wanted to come to the library."

"During Potions?"

"You're not there either."

Corinne huffed. "Well unlike me, _you_ never miss a class. Why are you skipping?"

"I could ask you same thing," Tom countered breezily. "You've been doing it for the past two weeks when you and I both know that your poor marks can't handle that."

Corinne's teeth clenched as she rose from her sitting position, attempting to appear furious and intimidating, even though that was impossible compared to Tom's towering height. "What do you want, Tom? Why did you go through all the trouble to come here out of the blue and bother me when we haven't even had a proper conversation since Christmas?"

"Why are you skipping classes?" Tom asked, dodging her questions.

"I don't have to tell you anything," Corinne snapped.

Tom's eyes darkened. "Very well. But you already know I'm excellent at discovering the truth whether you tell me or not."

Corinne felt herself trembling in rage. "Why do you insist on knowing every damn thing about me?"

"I asked you a simple question, Corinne. I just want to know why-"

"Because I'm avoiding _you_ , you arrogant bastard!"

Corinne regretted it the moment she said it. Both she and Tom froze, staring wide-eyed at each other. For a split second, pure fury burned in Tom's eyes, frightening Corinne. She couldn't help but remember the last time she'd stood up for herself; her father hit her because of it. Corinne may now distrust Tom, but she trusted him enough that she knew he would never hurt her.

Slowly the anger in Tom's eyes subsided. He looked down at his feet, almost in shame. "Corinne-"

" _No,_ " Corinne stopped him. "I don't want to hear it. Whatever you say will only confuse me more. I'm tired of you flip-flopping between being _whatever_ you are with me and then acting as though we're strangers. I can't do it anymore."

Wiping away frustrated tears, Corinne gathered up her schoolbag and pushed past Tom as she stormed away. She practically tossed her overdue library book and a sickle for the fine on the snoozing librarian's desk before running out of the room, not daring to glance back to see if Tom was following her. She didn't hear his footsteps.

Choked sobs escaped her as Corinne dropped her bag and caught herself against the wall out in the corridor. A year's worth of the mixed emotions she felt for Tom seemed to flow out of her. She broke like an overflowing dam. Corinne wanted nothing more than to run back inside the library and jump into Tom's arms, but knew there would be consequences because of it. A broken heart.

The sound of Corinne's cries in her own ears nearly drowned out the sound of footsteps racing out of the library, and a breathless voice declaring, "I need you."

Corinne was sure she was imagining it, until she slowly spun around and her breath hitched in her throat. Tom stood several feet away, his chest heaving slightly and facial expression indistinguishable. For a long while, they stared at each other just as they'd done in the library moments before. Only this time the tension was much greater between them. Either one of them could've made a move and broken the other one.

When Corinne found her voice, she whispered, "You what?"

Tom began to step forward, his eyes darting everywhere as if he'd find what he meant to say drifting around him. He spoke very slowly, struggling with his words. "I don't know why, and I don't know how. I can't even begin to fathom what I feel for you. I have tried to stay away, but I _can't_." He paused, collecting himself, now right in front of Corinne but not bringing himself to look up at her. Corinne could hear her own heart pulsating. Then, Tom grabbed hold of her shoulders, his voice barely audible as he said again, "I need you."

Corinne, with trembling hands, reached up and gently grabbed Tom's face in her hands, slightly surprising him as she forced him to look at her. She wanted to see if he was sincere and truly meant what he said, but couldn't read him as easily as she used to. Being this close to him was wrong and Corinne knew it. After convincing herself that she was done with Tom Riddle, here she was, back in his grasp. He was a terrifyingly addicting drug.

Aware that she'd regret it, Corinne whispered, "Tell me again."

"Tell you what?" She could've sworn Tom's voice wavered.

"That you need me. I want to hear it again."

Tom leaned ever so closer, his breath mingling with Corinne's. He spoke more firmly this time, with more assurance. " _I need you._ "

Corinne inhaled shakily. She couldn't stop herself from being reeled in to him again. He was bewitching. "How do I know you're not lying to me?"

Where Corinne's hands were still placed on his face, Tom set his own hands on top of hers, holding them against him. "I would never lie to you, Corinne."

And somehow, despite each and every alarm going off in her mind, Corinne believed him.

_Damn him._

Corinne pulled away and took Tom's hand, leading him to the broom cupboard that she was begrudgingly all too familiar with, yet it held a sacred place in her heart. When she pulled the confused boy inside, she slammed the door and locked it with a swish of her wand.

"What are you doing?" Tom said, turning on the light.

Corinne grinned. "Well, we can't exactly kiss out in the middle of the corridor, can we? Wouldn't be appropriate."

Tom raised an eyebrow, gesturing around them. "And _this_ is appropriate?"

"Shut up and kiss me, Tom."

Tom smirked, not needing to be told twice. His hands found Corinne's waist as they walked backwards until her back banged against the wall, their lips meeting in a heated frenzy. _This is wrong, this is wrong_ , the mantra repeated in Corinne's mind, but was quickly silenced when Tom's mouth latched onto her neck, sending her mind in a whirlwind.

Dumbledore was right when he said Tom was capable of doing dangerous things. He was dangerous for _Corinne_. Dangerous, toxic, and perfectly unpredictable.

It felt wonderful.


	32. I Am Lord Voldemort

_March, 1944_

The beginnings of winter's awaited departure were becoming evident through the quickly warming air that was the hot breath of springtime itself. Remaining patches of snow melted away. Brittle grass returned to its rich green color, followed by sprouts of vegetation blooming from within such as flowers with hues ranging from sunshine yellow to lovely lilac. Vibrancy seemed to be returning to the world again after a long hibernation. The weather was enough to make anyone immediately drop everything and run outside to enjoy the sun on their skin.

Except for two people. They were too busy in their own little universe to care about a matter as plain as the season changing.

While most everyone was out wandering in Hogsmeade, taking advantage of the gorgeous day, Corinne was cooped up in the library catching up on everything she missed while she skipped out on several lessons a couple of weeks back. Her professors had seemingly decided to assign extra homework and exams during her absence. It was seriously taking a tremendous toll on Corinne's already miserable marks. A cruel case of karma that she knew she probably deserved.

Half an hour of cramming for a missed exam later and Corinne could barely think straight. She was stuck on the same page in her textbook, reading the same sentence over and over again and still not being able to digest it in her mind. And the fact that Tom was sitting right next to her purposely sneaking smug looks at her while occasionally nudging his foot against hers definitely wasn't helping her concentration.

"Remind me again why you decided to come to the library with me," Corinne said, turning her head to look at Tom. He had a book of his own cracked open on the table before him, obviously pretending to be immersed in it when he very well knew what game he was playing.

"You asked me to help you study," said Tom matter-of-factly, feigning innocence.

"Well clearly you and I have a different interpretation of 'helping me study.'" Giving Tom a taste of his own medicine, Corinne brushed her foot across his ankle.

He stiffened for a split second before recovering, smirking. "I grew bored of teaching you concepts that I've already grasped _months_ before they were taught in class. If only you hadn't skipped out on lessons..."

Corinne rolled her eyes. "How many times are you going to remind me?"

"Until it ceases to bother you."

"And whose fault is it that I skipped all those lessons?" Corinne countered, glaring at Tom accusingly.

Tom shrugged. "I don't know why you're looking at me. _You_ made the choice to do it."

Corinne opened her mouth to retaliate but found her mind blank of a witty comeback. Tom was right but she didn't have the dignity to admit it to him. She couldn't let him win as he almost always did. Suddenly, Corinne had a devilish idea that would surely wipe that proud smirk off Tom's face. _Payback_.

She exaggerated a long sigh and leaned back in her chair to stretch, making a show out of it. Tom watched her curiously out of the corner of his eye. Then, smoothly, Corinne straightened again, allowing her arm to drape across her lap while the other one landed back on the table.

"I suppose you're right, Tom," Corinne said, lowering her voice to a sultry purr. "It was my fault."

"I'm glad we're on the same page," Tom murmured.

"Mhm." Then, ever so slowly, Corinne inched her hand closer to Tom, where his hands were clasped together on his lap. Hiding her smile with her free hand, her hand under the table continued to drift sideways until, by mistake, it landed on Tom's knee. They both froze.

Corinne was mortified beyond belief.

_What have I done? Oh God, what did I just do? I meant to touch his hand! How do I explain myself? Oh God, and we just got back on good terms..._

For longer than necessary, none of them said anything, as though they were both processing what was happening. Finally, it was Tom who broke the silence.

His voice was strained. "What do you think you're doing?"

Corinne gulped. She figured it would be less embarrassing to act confident about what she'd done rather than admit that she'd made an awful mistake. It was time to put on a charade again.

"What's the matter?" Corinne teased. "Can't I help you relax since you _so generously_ agreed to help me study?"

"Wouldn't you rather do this in a more private setting?" Tom asked, although his actions spoke differently. One of his hands found Corinne's, resting on top of it. She didn't know what was happening but didn't want it to stop.

Corinne found it thrilling being able to act this way around Tom somewhere that wasn't the Room of Requirement, the broom cupboard, or the Black Lake during the middle of the night. In no way was this proper when the librarian or a teacher could walk in at any moment and catch them. But right now, it was just the two of them. They could do practically anything and no one would ever know. The secretiveness of their affair brought Corinne more excitement than she'd ever experienced.

"No one else has set foot in this library for hours." Corinne met Tom's gaze and smiled, shrugging a shoulder. "Seems plenty private enough to me."

Tom inhaled through his nose and smirked, fixating his eyes back on his book. Corinne decided to play along, simulating that she was studying again. To an onlooker, it would appear they were ignoring each other, occasionally sneaking glances when the other wasn't looking. But their hands acted otherwise.

With Corinne's hand still on top of Tom's knee, Tom began rubbing his thumb over her bony knuckles, back and forth in a manner so soothing that Corinne's heart rate had calmed significantly. When he was tired of this, his thumb migrated to the back of her hand, swirling in clockwise circles. His cool skin was a stark contrast to Corinne's clammy hand. Then Tom's hand covered hers again, this time his fingers beginning to explore upwards, ghosting over every inch of the exposed skin on her arm that her quarter-length sleeve dress had to offer, hidden beneath the table. Corinne tightened her grip on Tom's knee, digging her fingernails into his trousers.

"Eager, are we?" she managed to say with amusement.

"You started it, Carrow," Tom replied, equally as amused.

Corinne was prepared to one-up him until she nearly choked when Tom's hand left her arm and landed on her thigh. Now she was _really_ glad no one else was in the room.

"Something wrong?" Tom asked nonchalantly, using his other hand to turn the page of his book.

Corinne laughed incredulously, shaking her head. "I know what you're doing."

His hand slipped down towards her knee, where her skirt ended. "And what am I doing?"

Corinne tried to calm her breathing. The skin underneath her skirt burned where Tom's hand skimmed over the thin material. The anticipation of where he'd touch her next made her insides squirm. "You're doing that thing where you touch me, believing I'll melt into putty like a foolish, desperate schoolgirl."

"I don't think you're a desperate schoolgirl, per say," said Tom, then a mischievous smirk played at his lips as he added, "But you are foolish if you think you can outsmart me at this little _game_ you started."

Then his fingers found the hem of Corinne's skirt, dipping underneath to stroke the bare skin of her knee and thigh. Corinne couldn't take it anymore. She abruptly rose from her seat, her chair scraping loudly behind her. As she gathered her bag and books, Tom touched her arm, stopping her.

"Where are you going?" he questioned. Corinne could have sworn she detected disappointment in his tone.

"We're finishing _this_ in the Room of Requirement," she told him, the 'this' she was referring to meaning something that was not exactly studying. "Unless you don't want to join me?"

Corinne was pleased when she heard Tom follow her out of the library.

* * *

"You really are a great teacher, Tom. I don't understand why you detest the idea of teaching."

"I don't detest teaching," Tom protested. "In fact, I find it a noble profession."

"Then why are you so impatient when teaching me all of this?" Corinne asked, gesturing to the several open textbooks and books from Tom's personal library scattered on the floor around her. She sat on the floor with her legs crossed while Tom was lounging on the sofa reading, claiming he was 'exhausted from helping her.'

"Because you're a stubborn student."

Corinne giggled, reaching up to smack Tom on the arm. After 'finishing what they started' in the library, Tom finally gave in and helped Corinne study. For real, this time. He was truly a miracle worker. Usually, Corinne had trouble focusing during the seldom times she actually studied on her own.

"I really appreciate you doing this," she said gratefully. "Seriously, you're a brilliant teacher. You could do it for a living."

Tom seemed to ponder this for a moment, as if he was actually considering it. "I'll keep that in mind for the future."

Corinne hummed in reply, beginning to clean up the space around her, separating her schoolbooks from Tom's books. She placed his on the coffee table, then stuffed hers in her already-full bag. Something inside it poked out unattractively, creating a lump in the fabric. Corinne dug her hand in the bag and pulled out her grandfather's camera. Ever since Cyrus sent it to her, she carried it around with her everywhere, feeling comforted by the idea of having a piece of Grandfather Scovell with her at all times.

Tom sat up on the sofa. "Why do you have a camera with you?"

Corinne smiled, tracing her fingers along the camera's edges. "It was my grandfather's. Cyrus sent me a whole box of things that belonged to him and this happened to be in it. He had a fascination for Muggle things."

She didn't notice Tom's lip curl in distaste when she mentioned the word _Muggle_. His tone was flat when he responded. "That was kind of Cyrus."

Absentmindedly, Corinne held the camera up to her face and peeked through the lens, observing how things around the room looked strangely far away. She pointed the camera at Tom, whose head was pointed down on the book in his hands. Suddenly Corinne had an idea that she couldn't resist grinning about.

"Say cheese!" she exclaimed, stifling laughter.

"What?" Tom looked up just in time as the camera went off, the flash startling him. He blinked several times and rubbed his eyes. "Did you just take a photograph of me?"

Corinne leaned her head back and busted out laughing. "You should've seen the look on your face!"

Her laughter must have been contagious, because Tom couldn't stop himself from smiling. It was rare seeing a true, genuine smile from him. Corinne found it absolutely charming.

Tom's smile disappeared when his gaze landed on the camera, his brows furrowing as he studied it. "What does it say on the side?"

Confused, Corinne flipped the camera around and searched, spotting what he meant when he pointed it out for her with his finger. Tom had a very good eye. On the side of the camera was a small engraving that she instantly recognized.

_Enoch Vellsry_

"Who is Enoch Vellsry?" Tom asked.

"It's an anagram, not a person," Corinne explained, indicting each letter with her finger. "My grandfather took his name, _Henry Scovell_ , and rearranged the letters to form _Enoch_ _Vellsry_. You could say he became a bit paranoid when Grindelwald rose to power. He assumed a fake name and used it sometimes."

Corinne was oblivious to the wheels reeling in Tom's mind as an idea formed that would affect him for the rest of his life, entirely inspired by her. She did not realize now how vastly the boy before her would utilize the information she'd just given him.

"An anagram," Tom mused, more to himself than Corinne. She noticed then that he seemed to be having a major epiphany. But why would a simple story about her grandfather matter to him so much?

"Is everything okay?" Corinne asked softly.

Tom snapped out of whatever trance he was in and his usual self-assured facade returned. "Of course. I was just thinking how intelligent your grandfather must have been that he created an anagram out of his name to protect himself. That is a brilliant idea."

Corinne instantly brightened. "That's very kind of you to say, Tom. Thank you."

Tom then leaned over and picked up two pieces of spare parchment off the floor, handing one to Corinne. "Why don't we make our own anagrams?"

"Out of our names? I don't know if I can..."

"Are you saying you're not up for the challenge?"

Corinne couldn't say no. Not after he'd bested her during their little game in the library. She grinned, holding her hand out for Tom to shake. "Alright. You're on, Riddle."

After a hearty handshake that lingered, the two of them began to experiment with their names on their pieces of parchment. They'd decided to use their first, middle, and last names to make the challenge more difficult. While Tom was scribbling away without stopping to think for even a second, Corinne was stumped. How were you supposed to make an anagram out of _Corinne Lorelei Carrow?_

Finally, she huffed and balled up her parchment, throwing it into the fireplace behind her. She heard Tom chuckle lowly.

"Having trouble?" he joked.

"My name is impossible," Corinne groaned, throwing up her hands. She was surprised to see that Tom had circled one of the names he'd created on his parchment. "You're finished already?"

"It wasn't that hard," Tom replied as though he'd done something as simple as casting a basic first year-level levitation charm, holding the parchment up so Corinne could see it. Her eyebrows shot up as she read the four-word phrase.

" _I am Lord Voldemort_ ," she read slowly, slightly butchering the pronunciation of Voldemort. "Seems a little boastful as a title, don't you think?"

"I don't think it's that bad."

Corinne giggled and joined Tom on the sofa, wrapping her arms around his neck while he ran his hands down her torso, resting them on her hips. "Well in that case," she said, "Why don't I repay you for helping me study, _Lord Voldemort?"_

Tom smirked. "I like the sound of that."


	33. Secret Affair

_10 March, 1944_

_The past few weeks have been some of the strangest I have ever experienced. I see things differently. I feel things differently; things in which I don't comprehend. It is as though I am made up of two opposite beings. There is my normal self, where my ambition overpowers any human emotion that threatens to derail my focus._

_However, there is this new part of myself that I do not recognize. It has caused me to establish some form of an affair with Corinne. We meet in secret almost everyday. We exchange words only uttered from the lips of lovers. We touch and kiss one another in ways that contradict every form of appropriateness._

_I grow more and more puzzled by the way I seem to lose sight of every ounce of my personal principles when I am around her. Horcruxes become a distant notion. Immortality becomes a casual ideal. Unlimited power will cross my mind without igniting any sort of exhilaration. Corinne has a hold on me just as a Veela seduces her prey._

_This is only a physical attraction. While it is impossible for me to feel and understand love, I am still a man with bodily desires. It is only natural in my human state. Therefore, what I feel for Corinne must only an internal urge provoked by physical contact. This is surely the reason I still find myself spending a considerable amount of time with her._

_I also now view her as a potential asset. She is wiser than I originally gave her credit for. Not only did she inspire me with the idea of pursuing a possible career in teaching- a useful way to spread my ideology to the future of wizardkind- but she also provided me with information I can use to free myself from my disgusting Muggle father's name. A name like Tom Riddle will not evoke fear from those who subject themselves to me. But now I know exactly what will._

_Every wizard in the world will soon tremble at the very thought of Lord Voldemort._

_\- T.M.R._

* * *

_March, 1944_

"Never in a million years did I expect, Tom Riddle, the master of Potions, to mess up by _one step_ ," Corinne stated over-dramatically, grinning with glee.

" _Shut up_ ," Tom hissed through his teeth. Corinne could see the faint color rising in his cheeks. "It's your fault."

Corinne scoffed. "How is it _my_ fault? If I remember correctly, you were the one who insisted on handling the potion!"

"That may be," Tom countered. "But I couldn't help that I had a certain _distraction_." He smirked as his eyes flickered up and down Corinne's form.

Corinne's eyes widened, and she felt her face turn beet red. Tom, clearly amused and satisfied, let out a husky chuckle and returned to stirring their slightly discolored potion. _That cheeky bastard_ , she thought.

Corinne never thought she'd witness the day Tom Riddle make a mistake academic-wise. And to think that, according to him, it was _her_ fault, somehow made the idea that more entertaining. It was almost comical thinking that she had Tom wrapped around her finger like a mythical siren attracting sailors, when really, it was the other way around. He was the manipulative snake charmer, while Corinne was the compliant cobra.

Curiously, she sneaked another peek at their potion and had to stifle a laugh. Professor Slughorn asked everyone to brew a Draught of Living Death, one of the more complicated brews the class had tackled this year. Slughorn claimed the potion was supposed to appear clear as water once you finished brewing it. Corinne and Tom's was perfect in consistency, but remained an ugly shade of plum purple. Anything could have gone wrong with it.

Tom insisted he must have stirred the potion an incorrect amount of times. Corinne had to agree, since she'd watched him add all the necessary ingredients down to the exact few drops of Sopophorous bean juice. She could tell Tom's mistake was eating him up inside and couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for him. All of a sudden, Corinne grew very anxious that he would be angry with her after class. Or even worse, begin ignoring her again.

Paranoia was almost constant when you were unofficially courting Tom Riddle.

Was this healthy? Most likely not. Every time Corinne passed a couple holding hands in the corridors- Euphemia and Fleamont Potter, for example- she found herself comparing them to her and Tom's relationship. Part of her longed to be able to openly kiss him in front of all their peers, showing everyone that they were both taken. That they were happy together in their own little world and didn't need anyone else.

But in reality, that wasn't what either of them wanted. Tom was naturally a secretive person, and Corinne hated having attention drawn to herself. Besides, there was nothing wrong with keeping this to themselves. Approval from others was overrated, anyway. Their secret Hogwarts romance was more than thrilling.

Though it was hard for the both of them to act like acquaintances, especially in Potions when they were assigned to sit by each other. They communicated with as little verbal conversation as possible (today was a surprising exception) and spoke mostly through subtle eye contact. Sometimes it went overboard and Corinne would catch herself staring. An inadvertent brush of their hands always sent an electric jolt through her. Tom was also great at making his foot rub against hers look like an accident.

Suddenly, Corinne heard Tom clear his throat, and immediately following that, she felt his fingers slide a scrap of parchment underneath her hand. Waiting for Slughorn to pass their table as he walked around observing everyone's potions, she unfolded the paper and read Tom's short message.

_'I'm expecting you to make this up to me.'_

Corinne grinned, scribbling a snarky reply before carefully sliding the note back, tapping her fingernails against the table to capture Tom's attention.

_'Well I'm sorry you couldn't control your boyish hormones long enough to do your schoolwork.'_

She watched in gratification as Tom's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Clearly he wasn't expecting that. Shortly after, he passed the parchment back.

_'I think you are the one with uncontrollable hormones. I can practically see you drool every time you glance at me.'_

Corinne rolled her eyes, then shoved the note out of sight just as Slughorn finally reached their table and gazed down at Tom's handiwork. She watched Tom's jaw tighten and his fists clench in his lap.

"I must say, Tom," said Slughorn at last, stirring their potion while frowning in slight disappointment. "I appreciate a prodigy of Potions such as yourself allowing your partner to take the lead on this particular brew." Slughorn, to Corinne's shock, turned to her. "Decent try, Miss Carroway. Five points to Slytherin."

Corinne's mouth fell open in disbelief as the professor doddered to the next table. Did Slughorn really think that just because the potion was slightly wrong, it couldn't have been the work of Tom? She didn't know whether to be more offended or shocked that Slughorn acknowledged her and somewhat praised her, despite of course getting her name wrong.

"At least you earned five points for Slytherin," Tom remarked, his tone laced with mirth.

Corinne turned and glared at him. "You thought that was funny?"

"I did, Miss Carroway."

Corinne took the parchment with their conversation and scrawled a rather unladylike message on it before folding it up and slapping it on the table in front of Tom. He mumbled something about her being a 'drama queen' and unfolded it, his eyes widening slightly as he skimmed it over. Corinne gave him a smug look as he stared at her. Before he could say anything, Slughorn dismissed the class, sending everyone rushing out the door in a flash. Out in the corridor, Corinne and Tom lingered behind, making sure no one was around to see them together before they resumed their discussion.

"What were you going to say before we were interrupted?" Corinne asked, leaning against the stone wall.

Tom chuckled lowly. "I was about to tell you how you never use that sort of foul language unless I kiss the spot by your-"

" _Tom Marvolo Riddle!_ " Corinne nearly shrieked, thankfully remembering that students were close by. "Are you always so blatant?"

Tom began to stride down the corridor. Corinne instinctively followed, walking right beside him. "Most of the time, yes. Why? Does it bother you?"

"No," said Corinne. "But aren't you worried someone might overhear you talking about our... _private business?"_

Tom abruptly stopped, making Corinne bump into him. His expression was solemn as he replied simply, "Trust me, Corinne. No one will ever know about us."

* * *

The best days were always Saturdays, when everyone was out and about in Hogsmeade. This gave Tom and Corinne the opportunity to be with each other outside of the Room of Requirement. That way neither of them had to deal with the complications of others if they knew about their affair.

Of course there were risks. There were plenty of other students who stayed behind on Hogsmeade days. Anyone who roamed too far from the school could come across the two lovers who laid side by side on the grassy hill that led down to the southeast side of the Black Lake.

Tom and Corinne rarely met by the lake during the day. Only on days that were too cloudy, cold, or even drizzly did they do so, when no one would want to come outside. Today they just got lucky. The air was warm with an occasional cool breeze, the sky cloudy with just the right amount of sunshine peeking through. The Black Lake seemed just as alive as the nature around it; the occasional tail of a merperson would slap against the water, and if you looked hard enough, you could make out the head of the resident giant squid bobbing over the surface.

Even Tom had to admit it was nice.

Despite the dewiness, Corinne had insisted on them lying back on the grass. Tom was instantly uncomfortable.

"Why are we doing this?" he asked.

"We're playing dead," said Corinne monotonically.

"You're kidding."

Corinne snorted, propping herself up on her side with her elbow. She was wearing a form-fitting burgundy checkered dress today, and something about her position was very enticing. Tom followed the length of her body with his eyes, from her slender shoulders, the curve of her waist, the slope of her hip, all the way down her long legs to where the dress ended. Corinne noticed him admiring her and blushed.

"This is supposed to help you relax," she explained. "I know it definitely helps me."

Tom grimaced as he sat up. "I don't see what's relaxing about lying on wet, sticky grass staring up at an overcast sky."

Corinne rolled her eyes. "Always the pessimist." Then she reached over and touched Tom's shoulder, gently pushing him back down onto his back. She scooted closer to him so that her head was resting on his arm, then brought his other arm and draped it across her stomach.

Tom was as tense as a stretched rubber band. "What if someone sees us like this?" he whispered.

Corinne turned her head to look at him. Her face was close enough that Tom could smell peppermint on her breath. "It's your turn to trust me for once."

"At least let me enchant the area so no one will see or hear us." Tom moved to get up, but was stopped when Corinne gripped his arm. Her touch made him relax.

"Come on, Tom," Corinne whispered, leaning closer to press a light kiss to his jaw. "Live a little."

And so Tom remained still, holding Corinne as they stared up at the gray sky and listened to the various sounds around them. The lapping of the water, the whistle of the wind, the melodies of the songbirds. Eventually, Tom stopped caring if they got caught out there in the intimate position they were in.

He didn't even notice Corinne had her wand out and was waving it at something nearby until she muttered, "Don't move."

Suddenly, a click and a flash went off just a few feet away. Tom's heart sunk in his chest until he realized it was only Corinne's camera hovering off the ground, which she'd charmed to capture this moment.

This time, he didn't mind so much being photographed.


	34. Morsmordre

_March, 1944_

With her goblet of pumpkin juice raised in midair, Corinne froze and stared at the _Daily Prophet_ headline, the bold letters seeming to bleed together in inky pools the longer she looked.

_MULTIPLE ARRESTS OF SUSPECTED FOLLOWERS OF GRINDELWALD_

_AMONG THOSE BEING INVESTIGATED ARE MINISTRY WORKER LAZARUS PARKINSON AND BORGIN AND BURKES SUPPLIER CORNELIUS CARROW_

She recalled what Cyrus had confessed to her the day she left Carrow mansion. Not only was their father involved with Grindelwald, but so was her family. Her mother, Caspian, and Caine were supposedly already recruits. Cyrus said he was most likely going to be forced into the situation. So if their father has been caught and arrested, who's to say the rest of the Carrow's won't also meet the same fate?

Corinne felt a wave of nausea at the thought of Cyrus being hauled off to Azkaban, having his soul extracted because of a crime he didn't commit from a Dementor's kiss...

"It says none of them have been taken to Azkaban yet," Tom said gently, taking the newspaper from Corinne, who'd been gripping it so hard that it was now severely crumpled at the sides. "There will be a trial first, and if your father can prove he is innocent..."

"He's _not_ innocent," Corinne snapped. "You remember what Cyrus told me. Our father and Grindelwald are practically best mates."

Tom glanced warily around the Great Hall, although no one was looking at them. Despite the fact that he and Corinne were sitting across from each other at the Slytherin table, they drew no attention to themselves. People knew not to look or make eye contact with Tom, and Corinne was naturally unsuspecting and blended in well with the buzzing student atmosphere. The only drawback was that they agreed to keep their heads down and not look at one another. And that was much more difficult than they would both care to admit.

"I understand you are upset," said Tom lowly, now skimming over the _Prophet_. "That's perfectly understandable."

Corinne began tearing apart her napkin. "I'm not upset about my father being arrested. He can spend the rest of his life locked up and die in Azkaban, for all I care."

"You don't mean that."

"Are you saying my father should walk free, when he's a follower of the most wanted man in the wizarding world?"

"I couldn't care less about that," Tom replied tightly. "But I do think he should be punished after what he did to you."

Corinne winced at the memory, touching her jaw. She would never forget the pain. "What if our roles were reversed, and he was _your_ father? After all he's done, wouldn't you despise him too?"

"I would," Tom admitted. "But the Corinne Carrow I know wouldn't. Not completely. You may hate him now, but you don't have enough hatred in your heart to loathe your father forever."

Forgetting their earlier agreement, Corinne looked up and gaped at Tom, stunned. She watched him as he fought to keep his gaze down, watching her from the very top of his vision. "And how would you know that?" she asked him softly.

Tom exhaled through his nose, closing the _Prophet_ and sliding it back to her. "I know you better than you think I do. You would never hate your father in the same way I hated mine."

Not even a second later Tom seemed to realize what he'd blurted out and inhaled sharply, tightening his hand into a fist on the table, the black ring on his finger prominent against his whitened skin. Corinne watched worriedly, wishing she could place her hand on his in an attempt to console him. This was only the second time Tom had ever mentioned his father. Very early on in their friendship, she vaguely remembered him telling her how his mother had given birth to him in the orphanage and died shortly after. When she'd asked Tom if he had a father, he'd simply told her he never met him.

Apparently that wasn't the case.

"Your father," Corinne said carefully. "I thought-"

"Forget I mentioned him," Tom muttered briskly, collecting his things and leaving without saying goodbye or that he would see her later.

Usually this behavior would bother Corinne, but over the past few weeks, she'd grown used to his strange outbursts and frequent storming out of the room. Every little one of his mannerisms had become as familiar to her as her own. No matter how unpredictable his tended to be.

But they made up the character that was Tom Riddle, and Corinne had no problem accepting that.

Sighing, she pulled out a clean sheet of parchment, tapping her quill against her chin for a moment before beginning a long overdue letter to Cyrus. She had to know if her brother was in any sort of trouble. As Corinne folded the letter and summoned Avis, placing the parchment in her beak, she mumbled a silent prayer under her breath as she sent the owl away.

* * *

"Not that I would ever question your motives, My Lord, but was torturing Black for speaking out of turn really necessary?" Abraxas Malfoy asked, watching next to Tom as the other Knights helped carry/drag a half-conscious Alphard Black out of the Room of Requirement.

Once the door slammed behind them, Tom took a seat in his armchair, sitting as though he were on a throne, casually noting a speck of Black's blood on the cuff of his shirt. It was clear he wasn't in the most spectacular of moods, taking his anger out on a naive boy who simply forgot to obey a basic rule during a meeting with the Knights of Walpurgis. The result was a rather nasty series of curses aimed towards Black. Tom didn't even enjoy it all that much.

"Of course it was," he told Abraxas indifferently. "The boy needs to learn somehow."

Abraxas chuckled. "I'm afraid no amount of torture will fix that thick head of his."

Tom, not amused, sighed impatiently and crossed his arms over his chest. "Do you wish to speak to me about something, Malfoy? If not, leave."

"Oh, you will want to hear about this, my Lord," said Abraxas, casually sweeping a finger across the mantle of the fireplace, seemingly checking for nonexistent dust. "It's about Slytherin's locket."

Tom instantly sat up straighter, now very curious. "I'm listening."

Appearing pleased, Abraxas began to pace. "I received a letter from my father this morning. He told a rather interesting story about an incident that occurred just last night. While he was at Borgin and Burkes, he overheard a conversation between Caractacus Burke and a man you may be familiar with already. I take it that you met Cornelius Carrow during the holidays while you were on your little _trip_ with that Carrow girl of yours?"

Something snapped inside of Tom. He promptly rose to his feet and started towards Abraxas. The blond boy flinched and took a step back. Abraxas knew then that he'd crossed into dangerous territory.

"Never let her name escape your lips again," Tom snarled, having backed Abraxas up against a wall, digging his wand into the boy's throat. "Never look at her or do so much as _think_ about her. Even if I'm not around and you do these things, I will find out and kill you in the slowest, most agonizing way possible. Do I make myself clear, Malfoy?"

Abraxas nodded frantically, his eyes wide and afraid. For once, he did not appear fearless of Tom. "Y-Yes, my Lord," he choked out.

Tom relished in the way the boy's entire body was trembling in terror. He released Abraxas and brought his wand away from him. "Good. Now tell me about this conversation between Caractacus Burke and Cornelius Carrow."

Abraxas's shoulders slackened in relief. "Evidently, this was just hours before Cornelius was taken into custody by the Ministry," he explained, still leaning against the wall for support. "I don't know if someone turned him in or not. My father didn't even know he was working for Grindelwald. Anyway, he said he overheard Cornelius and Mr. Burke discussing Slytherin's locket. Apparently, Cornelius was interested in buying it. Mr. Burke told him he had just sold it to someone a month ago. I thought you would like to know, my Lord."

Tom digested the story, sinking back in his chair. He gripped the armrests tightly. "Who did Mr. Burke sell the locket to?"

"My father said Cornelius asked the same question, but Mr. Burke wouldn't say. Said something about privacy and legal reasons and whatnot."

"Your information would be a lot more helpful if you _knew_ who has the locket now, Malfoy," Tom retorted through gritted teeth.

Abraxas spluttered. "I-I'm sorry! My father said Mr. Burke wouldn't say who has it!"

" _Shut up,_ " Tom snapped, taking deep breaths to compose himself. "Get out. You've wasted enough of my time. The next time you have information for me, make sure it is _reliable_."

"Yes, my Lord." With that, Abraxas bowed and then fled from the room, obviously eager to get away from Tom.

Glad to be alone, Tom reclined back in his armchair, bringing his gaze to the delicate green flames in the fireplace that always relaxed him. Corinne briefly came to his mind. He wondered when she would be back, but quickly pushed the thought away. Now was not a good time for her to be around him when he was in such a vexed state of mind.

Tom took out his wand again and pointed it at the fire, lazily tracing circles in the air while manipulating the flames. He created various shapes in the fire that came to mind. Emerald flames formed figures such as a writhing serpent, a soaring phoenix, a scene of a lion pouncing on its prey. A haunting skull came into view, greenish smoke billowing from its eye sockets and mouth. Tom couldn't help but notice how the smoke protruding from the skull's mouth, similar to a tongue, looked oddly like a serpent...

An accidental swish of his wand had created something very strange and beautiful inside the fireplace, and for some reason Tom was mesmerized. It reminded him of several things. The Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets as it emerged from the mouth of the colossal Salazar Slytherin statue. The symbol of Slytherin house. His gift of Parseltongue, a direct sign that he was descended from the great Salazar Slytherin himself.

Tom thought back to several days ago when Corinne had told him what Voldemort was translated to in French.

"I knew 'mort' meant 'death' in French, so I asked my friend Euphemia- she's nearly fluent in French- what the other half meant," Corinne had explained, her cheeks flushed as she said all this in one breath. "It turns out that 'volde' means 'flight.' Voldemort literally means 'death flight.'"

Tom had laughed and replied, "Well _that's_ not morbid at all."

The strange skull symbol in the fire reminded him of his adopted name. It made him think of death.

_Morsmordre_ , the symbol seemed to name itself. _To bite death_.

_Death Eater._


	35. Meeting With A.M.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: assault (not graphic)

_April, 1944_

_'Dear Corinne,_

_I deeply apologize for waiting so long to write you back. I wish I could promise you I'll write more frequently, but I'm afraid my scarcity of letters is necessary. Ever since the Ministry investigated father last month, our family has been high on their profile. Business at Borgin and Burkes has hit an all-time low, so much so that father has been terminated from their rank of suppliers. The Carrow family fortune has luckily kept us from bankruptcy, and will for a long while, but our family's reputation was affected more so than anything_.

_My dear sister, I assure you that this family matter has nothing to do with you. I'm only writing this to warn you that if the Ministry does end up convicting father for his crime, they could very well come after the rest of the family. Even me. Whatever you do, stay out of this. Maintain your promise to me._

_Attached to this letter is the key to Grandfather Scovell's flat in London. I realized recently that you may need it since you'll be staying there this summer. You know how forgetful I am._

_I will do my best get myself out of this situation so I can hopefully come stay with you once summer holiday begins. Not that you need anyone to look after you, of course. But it would reassure me of your safety._

_I hope you are doing well. Usually I would encourage you to write me back, but not this time. The Ministry tracks everything every letter that enters and leaves Carrow mansion. It was a miracle I managed to get this to you_.

_I don't mean to worry you, Corinne. Wars don't last forever. Men like Grindelwald never triumph. I have to remind myself of this everyday, and I advise you to do the same._

_Best regards,_   
_Cyrus Carrow'_

Carefully folding up her brother's letter and placing it in her small decorative box full of letters she'd received and kept over the years, she tucked it inside, having to mash the thick pile of letters down to will the box to close. Before doing so, she collected the key taped to the lip of the envelope, weighing its heaviness in her palm. The slightly rusted brass key had once belonged to her grandfather. He'd once used it every single day to access his flat, which he lived in alone for nearly twenty years after Corinne's grandmother Odelia died before she was born. Corinne imagined her grandfather holding the key as if she could somehow feel one last connection to him through it.

"I love you," she whispered up to Grandfather Scovell, pressing a kiss to the key before taking off her necklace, threading the key through the chain so it dangled right next to the triangular pendant. Corinne would treasure the two symbols for the rest of her life.

Her thumb ghosted over the triangular pendant again as she closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of the Room of Requirement. In the dead of the night, absolutely nothing could be heard except—Corinne had to cease her own breathing momentarily to hear it—the faint sounds of snoring coming from Tom's bedroom area. He'd left the curtains surrounding his quarters open tonight, which usually muffled his snores. Corinne couldn't stop herself from picturing what it would be like to be in Tom's bed with him right now. Not doing anything indecent—just how it would feel to fall asleep in his arms.

Corinne assumed Tom wasn't comfortable sharing a bed with her, and that was why they slept in such distant proximity. She would lie awake each night on the sofa, grateful that Tom let her stay in the Room of Requirement with him, that tiny part of her wanted to be closer to him.

Desire was becoming stronger than her sense of morality. And that was terrifying.

Corinne eventually let the soft sound of Tom's breathing lull her to sleep, unknowingly clutching her necklace. Strangely, she did not dream of Tom.

Instead, she dreamt of herself as a much older woman standing on the front lawn of Carrow mansion, peering at a locket cracked open in her hands. Inside were two photos on opposite sides. One was of her grandfather, close to the age of which he died. The other photograph was too blurry to make out.

The only distinguishable feature was a pair of red eyes.

* * *

After being involved in a secret affair with Tom Riddle for a little over a month now, Corinne could say with confidence that she was well familiar with how he ticked. His moods fluctuated like the wind. The best days were always the ones where he smiled a lot and sometimes even lost his self control, and Corinne would find herself being dragged to the broom cupboard or the Room of Requirement in between lessons for long, passionate sessions of snogging. The worst days were when Tom would remain silent and brooding for an entire day, not even bringing himself to glance at her. Corinne never knew what was wrong with him when he was having particularly bad days, and never dared to ask.

It was better to let him be instead of questioning him, resulting in a fight that wouldn't resolve or answer anything.

Today wasn't quite a bad day, but it wasn't a good one either. Tom was distant, even resorting to telling Corinne to avoid going into the Room of Requirement after lessons because he had private business to attend to. Of course this sounded suspicious, but Corinne left it alone, assuming Tom had invited his friends, or "followers" as Euphemia referred to them, for some sort of meeting. Whatever it was, Corinne trusted him. At least Tom had asked her to meet him by the Black Lake later that night.

Corinne had dinner in the Great Hall with Euphemia and her friends from the Gryffindor table that evening. What was once one of her biggest fears had become a somewhat comfortable activity. Gryffindors were really chatty, so at least she didn't have to contribute much to the big group discussion about professional Quidditch. Corinne really would much rather sit with Tom, but he had skipped dinner. The meeting with his group of fellow Slytherins must have run long.

Everything was normal and content for the time being until suddenly, something light whipped past Corinne's ear, skittering across her plate and the Gryffindor table. Everyone in close range immediately ceased conversation and froze, staring at her. Corinne felt her face heat up, wanting to slide under the table and disappear.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Septimus Weasley said, plucking up the airborne object, which had landed on his plate piled high with food. It was a thick, folded-up piece of parchment.

Fleamont Potter swiped the parchment from Septimus, who protested with a curse, his eyes skimming it briefly as though something were written on it. He then looked up directly at Corinne, who felt a jolt of surprise run through her.

"It's for you," said Fleamont, holding the parchment out across the table.

Corinne carefully took it from him, cautiously avoiding touching his fingers for the sake of Euphemia, who was watching the display curiously. She felt everyone's eyes on her as she unfolded the parchment and read the unfamiliar handwriting. She had expected it to be from Tom.

_'Meet me up in the Astronomy Tower at 7:00 sharp. I need to talk to you.'_

_-A.M._

Euphemia leaned in close and whispered in Corinne's ear, startling her, "That wouldn't happen to be from Tom Riddle, would it?"

Corinne's heart skipped a beat. She'd forgotten that Euphemia was aware that something was going on between her and Tom, but not to the extent that it had become. As much as she was tempted to tell her only real female friend her biggest secret, Corinne knew Tom wouldn't like it.

A.M. Nobody with those initials rang a bell. Who—besides Tom—would want to talk to Corinne up in the Astronomy Tower, of all places?

It was nearly 7:00 now. Corinne could react as she normally would and ignore the request from the possible stranger. Or, she could listen to the curiosity itching at her.

"I've got to go," Corinne said to Euphemia in particular, who was the only one watching her with interest.

Euphemia smiled, her eyes dancing with mischief. She probably assumed Corinne was about to go meet Tom. "Alright. I'll see you around, Corinne. Have fun."

But Corinne was already heading out of the Great Hall.

* * *

The Astronomy Tower was seemingly empty when Corinne arrived. Maybe the mysterious person who wanted to talk to her wasn't there yet.

She stepped further into the room until she reached the iron ramparts, draping her arms across the railing. The air was cool for an April night, the atmosphere electric as though a spring shower was on its way. As Corinne found herself lost in the landscape ahead, a throat cleared behind her, causing her to spin around abruptly and gasp.

His appearance was just as uncharacteristically startling as the first time Corinne had noticed when she once passed him in the corridor.

"Hello, Carrow," said Abraxas Malfoy, nodding his pointed head to her. He stood in the center of the room with his hands clasped behind his back, oddly still. His draconian steel eyes watched her like a predator's, his blond hair white in the dark.

Corinne gulped. How could she have been so foolish? A.M. Abraxas Malfoy. "Abraxas. Why did you ask to see me here?"

Abraxas tilted his head to the side. "I thought I made it clear in the note. I need to talk to you."

"About?" Corinne stepped away from the railing and reentered the room, her arms crossed over herself not because she was cold, but because she felt uncomfortable and vulnerable.

Abraxas brought his hands out from behind him and clapped them together, beginning to stride around the room. Corinne's eyes followed his every move.

"I know something you probably don't want me to know about," said Abraxas, a smile creeping on his lips. His smile was beautiful, though it was out of place with the rest of his harsh facial features.

Corinne's heart began to hammer in her chest. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play dumb with me." Abraxas let out a bone-chilling laugh, slapping his hand on his leg as though he'd heard an amusing joke. "You're a really bad liar, you know that?"

"What is it that you know, Abraxas?" Corinne asked, growing impatient while also disturbed by his last statement, which sounded awfully close to what Tom often told her.

Abraxas suddenly stopped and looked straight at her, his face humorless. "I know about you and Riddle."

Corinne inhaled sharply. She knew her baffled expression would make it difficult for her to appear innocent, so she didn't bother to lie. "How?"

"I'm not an idiot," Abraxas jeered, crossing his arms as he began to slowly step towards her. "You and Riddle may think you're sneaky, hiding your little _scandalous_ relationship without any sort suspicion. You really believe no one knows about you two? Well, I'm afraid you are terribly mistaken. You may have every other imbecile in this school fooled, but not me."

"Why does it matter to you what relationship Tom and I might have?" Corinne retorted, her gaze on Abraxas icy.

"Oh, it matters," said Abraxas, and before Corinne could react, he backed her up against a wall, trapping her. "It matters more than you realize."

" _Get off of me_!" Corinne shouted, then opened her mouth to scream. Before she could make a sound, Abraxas clamped his hand over her mouth, muffling her cries of horror.

"I didn't want to do this," Abraxas muttered, though he didn't sound guilty, as he brought out his wand and pointed it to Corinne's throat. "But since you won't shut up... _Silencio_."

When he removed his hand and Corinne tried to scream again, she realized with dread that she was rendered temporarily mute by the Silencing Charm. Panicking, she beat her fists against Abraxas's chest, but the taller boy did not budge. When Corinne aimed her fists at his face, he took her wrists in his hands and pinned them on either side of her body.

"You ask why it matters that you and Riddle are continuing your little affair," Abraxas said lowly, his steely eyes darkening to a deep, ominous charcoal. "You don't realize the effect you have on him. When you make him angry, he takes out his anger on _us_. His number one priority is _you_. He doesn't give a damn about those who have been loyal to him for years. Because of you, _we all suffer_."

Corinne wanted to know who the _us_ and _we_ he was referring to. Abraxas seemed to understand the question in her eyes and laughed aloud. "You really are naive, Carrow. You have no idea what has been occurring all this time, do you? Do you even know the kind of man Tom Riddle really is? The one you've fallen so desperately in love with? Do you seriously think he feels the same way?

Corinne instantly stopped fighting to free herself. She let out a silent cry, digesting Abraxas's words. She didn't want to believe them. _He's just trying to frighten you_ , Corinne told herself. _Of course you know the kind of man Tom is. You know him better than anybody else._

But really...did she?

"Poor, innocent Corinne," Abraxas cooed tauntingly, leaning so close that his hot breath stung Corinne's face. "You're really going to hate yourself later for letting yourself fall so hard." Then he leaned even closer, his lips migrating near her ear. "If you know what's good for you, you will end your pointless little affair and run as far away from Riddle as you can."

Helplessly, Corinne stood shoved against the wall as Abraxas moved one of his hands to her throat, her wrists still pinned against her body. She gasped and struggled to breathe, her entire body suddenly seized with terror. Was this really happening? Did Abraxas really hate her so much for occupying all of Tom's attention that he was willing to murder her here in the Astronomy Tower? Or was he merely threatening her? Speaking of Tom...

It was as if Abraxas had read her mind. "Don't even think about telling Riddle about this," he hissed, his hand tightening around her throat. "He's not the only one who is not afraid to use the _Cruciatus_ curse on someone."


	36. You Are Mine

_April, 1944_

After Abraxas left the Astronomy Tower, Corinne lost track of how long she remained glued in place, despite her attacker being long gone by now. Her entire body was numb and in shock. Part of her feared that if she moved an inch, Abraxas would return and the nightmare would continue.

She knew she needed to tell Headmaster Dippet, or even Professor Dumbledore, who she trusted more. She could possibly tell Euphemia. But her loyalty to Tom kept her from doing so. They would wonder why Abraxas had warned her to stay away from Tom and physically assaulted her just to make a point.

Only when the moon was high in the spotless night sky did Corinne feel she'd hidden long enough and forced herself down the tower's spiral staircase, the creak of each wooden step making her wince. She'd almost forgotten she was supposed to meet Tom down at the Black Lake tonight. Without her wristwatch, there was no telling what time it was or how late she would arrive.

For once, she found herself dreading facing Tom.

But she would dread it even more to disappoint him.

Corinne would have to brave it. She would have to act as though she wasn't just assaulted mere hours ago. Because if Tom found out...

She didn't want to imagine what would happen to her if Abraxas found out. She didn't want to imagine would Tom would _do_.

Putting on a faultless mask for him would be a challenge. After all, she was dealing with the ultimate master of deception.

* * *

The chill cast off from the Black Lake sent rivers of goosebumps across Corinne's exposed areas of skin as she approached. Fog obscured the horizon above the lake. Moisture dampened the grass, causing cold dew to seep into Corinne's shoes, making for a very uncomfortable walk. She reached the apex of the moor leading down to the lake and paused.

Her eyes landed on Tom, legs stretched out as he sat on a blanket gazing out at the lake. He must have been deep in thought, for he had not noticed Corinne's presence. For a moment she watched him, wondering what was going through that brilliant mind of his. At the same time, she did not want to know.

Corinne took a deep breath as she headed down towards Tom, readying herself for her performance. Although unknowingly, she kept her head down and tugged at her shirt sleeves nervously.

Her footsteps caught Tom's attention and he turned his head to watch her stride over to him. He opened his mouth to greet her but faltered and frowned, his brows scrunching with something that appeared to be concern. Corinne mentally scolded herself, hoping the darkness would blur any evidence that she'd been crying.

"Corinne," said Tom, standing as she came closer. He noticed her avoiding his eyes. "Something is wrong. What happened?"

Corinne's bottom lip wobbled, and that's when her dam of emotions shattered. She let out a choked sob and almost collapsed on her knees if not for Tom catching her, bringing the two of them in a kneeling position on the ground. His whole body immediately tensed, as if unsure how to react, out of habit. After a moment of hesitation, Tom relaxed and wrapped his arms around her. Corinne herself stiffened, his touch a troubling reminder of what occurred in the Astronomy Tower.

She couldn't help but cry harder at the memory.

Slowly, Tom pulled away and looked at Corinne, his eyes studying her as if he could detect what was wrong. His hand reached up to gently brush her tears away with his thumb, making Corinne flinch. She averted her gaze from his, which she could feel boring into her.

"Tell me what happened," Tom whispered. When Corinne still wouldn't make eye contact, distracting herself by picking at the grass, his fingers grazed her chin and tilted her head up to meet his concerned-filled eyes. "Please."

"I..." Corinne couldn't say it. She couldn't bring herself to tell Tom verbally. So, Corinne let out a shaky sigh and pushed her tangled hair away from her neck, revealing the darkening bruises created by Abraxas Malfoy's hands.

Tom stared at her curiously, not able to see what she meant to show him in the darkness. He pulled out his wand and muttered, " _Lumos._ "

The tip of Tom's wand lit up, bright light illuminating the area around them. Then, he inhaled sharply when his eyes landed on Corinne's neck. Corinne stared down at her lap in shame, letting a few tears drip down her face as she next rolled up her sleeves, displaying an ugly ring of dark hand marks around her wrists. Tom followed her gaze to them, his lips pursed tightly and his expression hard. Silent, he lifted Corinne's hand and lightly trailed his fingertips across the bruised skin, making her quietly gasp.

"Who did this?" Tom asked, his tone low and dangerous. Somehow, it was more frightening than him yelling.

Corinne chewed her bottom lip. She knew it would do no good for her to lie to him now. Although Abraxas's threat replayed in her mind, Tom's pleading eyes was enough to make her admit the truth. Her voice wavered as she blurted out, "Abraxas Malfoy."

Tom was silent except for the heavy breaths puffing from his nose, which was not a good sign. Corinne dared a glance at him, noticing his jaw clenched tightly and his eyes blazing.

Then, abruptly, Tom stood up and withdrew his wand, clutching in his fist to hard that his hand began to tremble.

"Tom, what are you doing?" Corinne asked warily.

"I'm going to kill him," Tom said, his voice surprisingly firm. Then he turned and started to storm off towards the castle.

Corinne's eyes widened, running after him and catching him by the wrist, forcing him to look back at her. "Tom, no!"

"He _hurt_ you," Tom snapped, making Corinne cower at his tone. Noticing this, his face softened and he lowered his voice. "He hurt you, Corinne. He knows better than to bother you. I can't just let him get away with this."

"Please don't do anything drastic, Tom," Corinne told him, desperation in her eyes. "Despite what Abraxas did, hurting him isn't the right thing to do."

Tom's chest continued to heave with anger for a moment before he exhaled, leading Corinne back to the blanket and sitting back down with her. Cautiously, he placed his hand on the side of her jaw, watching her eyes for any sign of discomfort. Corinne's lips curled into a small encouraging smile as she nodded, prompting Tom as he proceeded to press his lips tenderly to hers, pulling away enough that they were nose-to-nose.

"I will try to not hurt Abraxas," Tom promised, kissing Corinne's cheek, his warm lips sending pleasurable warmth throughout her body. His lips trailed from her cheek to her jaw, then journeyed down the length of her neck until they hovered over the worst of the bruised blemishes. "I apologize for my reaction. It's just..."

Corinne gasped, her eyes fluttering shut when Tom's mouth ever so gently touched one of the tenderest bruises.

"It just makes me so damn _angry_ ," Tom continued in between kisses, "knowing that _bastard_ put his hands on you..." Next, he took Corinne's hands and brought them up to his mouth, pressing soft kisses around both injured wrists. "When you are _mine_."

The husky way he said this sent a delightful shiver down Corinne's spine. "I-I'm yours?"

"Mhm," Tom murmured, bringing his head back upwards until he and Corinne were face-to-face again. His gaze was breathtaking.

"How am I yours, Tom?" Corinne asked as frustration began to bubble up inside her. The constant wondering what kind of relationship she and Tom were in had been nagging at her for far too long. And then he says something like _that?_ "We don't even have an established relationship. How can you say I'm yours when you said so yourself that we are nothing more than secret lovers?"

"That's all we can be," Tom told her simply. "Secret lovers."

"Why is that?" Corinne demanded, her voice inadvertently raising. "Why do we have to be a secret? Is it because you're ashamed to be with me?"

"No," Tom said resolutely, taking her hands again and stroking the backs of them with his thumbs. "Corinne, you know why we must remain a secret. It benefits the both of us. And look at what happened tonight. Because of me, Abraxas targeted you."

Corinne remembered what Abraxas had said to her. _You ask why it matters that you and Tom are continuing your little affair_ , he'd said. _You don't realize the effect you have on him. When you make him angry, he takes out his anger on_ us _._

"Abraxas said something about how you don't care about those who have been loyal to you for years. That they all suffer, because of _me_ ," Corinne said, watching Tom's expression darken. "What does he mean by that? Who are these people that are loyal to you?"

Tom switched his gaze to the lake, his jaw clenched. "You don't need to know."

Corinne scoffed. "And why not?"

" _You don't need to know._ "

"Damn it, Tom Riddle!" Corinne growled in frustration, rising to her feet. She was tempted to hit him. "Why are you keeping things from me? Is whatever you're doing so terrible that you can't bear to tell me? I thought we were-"

"We are not _anything_ , Corinne," Tom said through clenched teeth. "We've been over this. I don't owe you any of my secrets because we're not an item. We are _nothing_."

This stung. It felt like Corinne's heart was an open wound and Tom just poured salt all over it. Forcing back tears, she sneered at him. "But you just admitted I'm yours. So that was a lie? Does that mean it won't bother you if I go back to Abraxas and let him put his hands on me again? Is that what you want?"

Corinne knew the moment she blurted all this out that she'd gone too far. But she stood her ground, even when Tom slowly rose to his feet and marched over to her, his eyes as black and daunting as the night itself. His hands were balled into fists, and Corinne momentarily wondered if Tom would ever stoop as low as hitting her, then thought better of it. Tom's face was inches away, his breath coming out as erratically as an angered bull waiting to pounce. Corinne stared back at him, her eyes kindling with the same ferocity.

"Don't _ever_ say anything like that ever again," Tom said threateningly, never breaking his livid glare.

Corinne knew she was taunting a devil. But that didn't stop her from leaning in closer and snarling in Tom's face, " _Or you'll what?"_

There was a moment of white hot tension between them. Both of them felt it, and although they were both infuriated at each other beyond limitation, at the same time they had never felt a bigger urge to ravish one another. Tom licked his lips, and Corinne found herself biting her own.

Finally, before one of them could snap, Tom broke their eye contact and stepped away, turning his back to her. "Do not test me, Corinne. Neither of us would enjoy it if I completely lost my temper with you."

"Fine," Corinne replied, wiping away angry tears. "But answer one last question for me."

"Of course."

Corinne swallowed the lump in her throat, her voice cracking as said, "Why do you really not want anyone to know about us? And don't give me that rubbish about you wanting to protect me from whoever you won't tell me about. I'm sick of you lying to me. Tell me the truth, Tom."

"But what I told you _is_ precisely the truth," Tom countered, spinning around to face her. "That, and the fact that I have a reputation to maintain, are the reasons no one must know about us."

"Being happy is tainting your reputation?" Corinne asked incredulously, shaking her head in disbelief. "Tom, happiness and love are not weaknesses. It just shows that you are human. Why must you put on an emotionless facade for everyone?"

Tom sighed, reaching out and grabbing Corinne's hand. She reluctantly allowed him to touch her. He stared down at their intertwined fingers as he whispered, "It is just something I have always done."

* * *

In the very early morning hours of the next day, the Slytherin common room was completely dark and deserted. Everyone was sound asleep in their dormitories, blissfully oblivious to the event about to take place.

The door to Lestrange, Avery, Rosier, and Abraxas Malfoy's dormitory suddenly flew open, startling the two occupants of the room awake. Tom strode swiftly into the room, his wand ready at his side and his gaze murderous, stopping in place to take in the scene before him.

Abraxas Malfoy lay wide awake in his bed, his white torso exposed and bare, next to a brunette girl Tom had never seen before, clutching the duvet to her seemingly bare chest. The other three residents of the dormitory were not in their beds; they'd most likely taken refuge in Mulciber, Antonin Dolohov, Alphard Black, and Orion Black's room for the night while Abraxas had his _private fun_. Tom wrinkled his nose in disgust, then felt a surge of anger.

Right after Abraxas assaulted Corinne earlier that night, he'd come right back to his dormitory with another girl, as though he'd done nothing wrong and everything was normal.

"You, get up," Tom snapped, pointing his wand threateningly at Abraxas. Then he looked to the naked girl next to him. "And you, _get out_."

The brunette girl yelped, but nonetheless did as she was told, plucking up what Tom assumed was Abraxas's shirt off the bedside table and quickly buttoning it over herself, afterwards dashing out of the room. Tom kept his wand pointed at Abraxas.

"Riddle, what the bloody hell are you doing here at this hour?" the blond boy demanded, his eyes wide with fear.

"What did you just call me, Malfoy?" Tom snarled, charging towards Abraxas and jabbing his wand against the boy's throat.

Abraxas made a terrified choking noise. "I-I'm sorry m-my Lord!"

Tom jeered. "Much better, Malfoy." Then he frowned in distaste. "And for God's sake, put some clothes on and stop whimpering like the coward you are."

"I'm sorry, my Lord," Abraxas said again, frantically searching the floor for his pajama pants and shirt, clumsily sliding them on. Once he regained his cool composure, he sat down on his bed and asked formally, "My Lord, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

Tom stalked towards Abraxas again, this time leaning down in front of him so they were at eye level. He twirled his wand between his nimble fingers as he smirked knowingly down at the fearful boy. "I've come to have a little... _conversation_ with you, Malfoy."


	37. Everything

_12 April, 1944_

_I write this now in a heat of rage that remains infrangible even after torturing one of my closest acolytes to the point of near insanity. It is unlikely that Abraxas Malfoy will be the same again following this incident._

_I do not regret what I've done. He deliberately disobeyed me. He committed a savage act out of spite aimed directly towards me._

_He hurt Corinne. I would have killed Abraxas, but I didn't. Because of her._

_Besides, why give him the easy route of death?_

_The extent of Malfoy's punishment does not end at torture. That would be merciful. Because of Abraxas Malfoy's deed, the Malfoy family is forever indebted to me_ _, Lord Voldemort._ _Whoever is foolish enough to marry Abraxas will share the same fate. Any offspring they may have will share the same fate. Every Malfoy descended from Abraxas Malfoy will subject themselves to me without objection, do as I command without complaint, and serve me until the day they die._

_A Malfoy that refuses shall be reminded of their predecessor's sin and suffer the same as he did._

_When I rise to full power, soon, everything the Malfoy family holds dear will belong to me. I will control their fortune, their reputation in the wizarding community, even their own lives. The esteemed Malfoy Manor will also eventually belong to me, where my most trusted ranks and I will thrive and rule._

_In a way, the Malfoy family is privileged that this will be their future. Maybe a part of me really is merciful._

_\- T.M.R_

* * *

_May, 1944_

Another month of contentment, occasional confusion, pointless arguments, spontaneous tender and heated encounters, and blissful nights by the Black Lake with Tom passed, bringing overall unbridled happiness. Corinne still couldn't accept that this was her new normal. It seemed like a fairytale of some sorts.

A strange, unconventional fairytale.

One where Corinne was the doting princess while Tom was the mysterious, handsome prince who shifted moods like a chameleon changed colors.

To Corinne, it was almost perfect.

She was also riddled with nightmares, insomnia, and paranoia. A month had passed since the incident with Abraxas Malfoy- which no one else knew about except Tom- that Corinne so desperately wanted to forget. Though it seemed that the more she tried to force that night out of her mind, the more it tended to appear in her dreams. This eventually led to Corinne fearing sleep, for when she did, Abraxas Malfoy's cruel face would pass behind her eyelids. That's when her insomnia began.

Her problem affected Tom too. He too lost sleep when Corinne would wake up in the middle of the night screaming from nightmares. She could sense his internal struggle whenever he attempted to comfort her. It was clear he had a lack of experience on that sort of thing, and that was alright. Corinne appreciated his effort.

During sleepless nights when the nightmares were at their worst, when Corinne woke up several times during the night screaming, Tom sometimes lost control. Frustrated with himself when he couldn't help her, he threw and broke things, cursing Abraxas Malfoy under his breath. Sometimes in his fits of rage, he stormed out of the Room of Requirement to Merlin knows where. Perhaps to find a quiet place to sleep. Perhaps to destroy more things.

Corinne offered on several occasions to move back into the broom cupboard or the Slytherin common room for Tom's sake, but he adamantly refused each time.

"You're better off staying in the Room of Requirement," he would always say.

It was a slightly less endearing than him admitting that he wanted to protect her, but Corinne still accepted his display of concern either way.

Finally, at the peak of desperation, Corinne sought out the nurse and admitted she'd been experiencing severe insomnia, and was given a bottle of Sleeping Draught.

Now she was dependent on the potion for its ability to give her a deep, dreamless sleep. When the nurse began refusing to give her more doses of it, Tom, being the more gifted potioneer, started brewing the drought himself in the Room of Requirement. The next dose was always ready for Corinne when she needed it.

While her insomnia was temporarily cured, taking a Sleeping Draught almost every night had its downsides. The effects didn't completely wear off until lunchtime, making early morning lessons a drowsy blur.

Now at breakfast, Corinne, who found herself struggling to keep her head upright, sat with Euphemia at the Gryffindor table while Tom sat in his usual spot at the Slytherin table with his group. The two of them had agreed to sit separately today, Tom claiming he needed to speak to his group. It must have been about something important, as Corinne observed how each boy was leaning towards Tom, listening intently to his every word. Or they were just mesmerized by their leader.

Corinne noticed something else about the group. Now that she thought about it, she couldn't believe she hadn't noticed before.

"Hey, Euphemia?" Corinne tapped her good friend on the shoulder, catching her attention. "Can I ask you something?"

Euphemia smiled. "Of course. Anything."

Corinne leaned closer, her eyes darting around to make sure they weren't being eavesdropped on. She once again noted the absence of the blond boy in Tom's group. "Have you seen Abraxas Malfoy lately?"

"Abraxas Malfoy?" Euphemia cocked her head to the side. "Why are you worried about a weasel like him? I thought you were with Riddle."

"What about Riddle?" Fleamont Potter asked blankly, clearly overhearing his girlfriend.

Corinne's eyes widened. "Euphemia," she hissed.

"Oh, we weren't talking about Riddle, Monty," Euphemia said, beaming innocently at Fleamont. Corinne nearly laughed at his pet name. "We were just talking about...a riddle! Corinne told me a riddle."

"Oh," Fleamont said, then grinned at Corinne. "Can I hear it? I'm excellent at riddles."

"No you're not!" Euphemia teased.

"Euphemia lied," said Corinne, panicking. Fleamont and Euphemia stared at her, confused. "We weren't talking about a riddle. We were talking about... _girl things_."

Fleamont turned beet red, and Euphemia's lips pursed tightly as she tried to hold in her laughter.

"Oh, uh..." Fleamont stammered. "I'll just...leave you ladies to it, then. Wouldn't want to intrude on your, er, _talk_."

Once he scurried away and plopped down a few seats away next to Septimus Weasley, tripping over the bench in the process, Euphemia burst out laughing. Corinne couldn't hide her grin.

"Normally, I would be mad that you lied to my boyfriend," Euphemia said, giggling. "But _that_ was great. I'll never forget his face. Priceless!"

Corinne decided to bring the previous subject up again. "Can we get back to what we were talking about before?"

Euphemia looked puzzled for a second before her face lit up. "Ah, yes. Abraxas Malfoy. Why do you want to know if I've seen him? You two aren't friends, are you? I've heard rumors about him, Corinne. Bad ones. I don't think you should be around him..."

"No, we aren't friends," said Corinne a little too forcefully. "I don't want anything to do with him. I'm just curious. Haven't you noticed that he hasn't been around in weeks? I haven't seen him once. Do you know anything?"

Euphemia was silent for a moment, appearing reluctant, until she sighed and lowered her voice to a near whisper as she confessed, "Okay, I do know something. I'm surprised you didn't hear about it. Malfoy's been gone for about a month now."

Corinne's heart stopped. "Gone?"

"From Hogwarts," Euphemia corrected herself. "I don't know if it's for good, though. I wouldn't be surprised if they pulled Malfoy out of school, from what I've heard."

"What happened to him?"

"No one is entirely sure," said Euphemia. "They suspected a werewolf might have done it, judging by his injuries. But about a month ago, Filch found Malfoy out in the Forbidden Forest one morning, his body all mutilated and bloody. He was barely alive and obviously traumatized. He couldn't even remember what happened to him. Malfoy's been in St. Mungos ever since."

Corinne was shaking. This happened about a month ago. A month ago was when...

It couldn't be a coincidence. Abraxas wouldn't have been out in the Forbidden Forest just for the hell of it. And only one person knew what Malfoy had done to Corinne, and they had been angry enough that they wanted to kill him.

"No," Corinne whispered, horror turning her face sheet white and panic making her head spin. "No, _no_."

"Corinne?" Euphemia set her hand on Corinne's arm. "Corinne, you're scaring me. What's wrong?"

Corinne swept her gaze over the Slytherin table again and, inadvertently, locked eyes with Tom. For a split second, his calm demeanor slackened and was replaced with concern. Corinne's feet moved on their own accord. She ignored Euphemia's protests as she stalked towards the Slytherin table. She didn't give a damn about Tom's rule that they couldn't converse with each other out in the open like this.

Her hands slammed against the wood as she leaned on the table, which was the only thing separating her and Tom.

"I need to talk to you," Corinne told him, her voice deadly calm.

Tom looked at her apathetically, his countenance hostile in front of the other boys. "I'm afraid I am in the middle of something, Carrow."

Corinne snapped. "And I need to talk to you _now_ , Riddle. You know where to meet me."

With that, she stormed out of the Great Hall, knowing very well that Tom would follow her.

* * *

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Tom growled as he slammed the Room of Requirement doors shut. Corinne didn't even flinch.

She stomped towards him, fearless and enraged. "I know what you did to Malfoy."

Tom's lip curled with contempt. "I did nothing to that bastard."

"Stop lying to me!" Corinne yelled, angry tears stinging her vision. "I know about Malfoy being found half-dead in the Forbidden Forest, and I know that he's still in St. Mungos because of it! This happened a _month_ ago! I think you can recall what else happened then! It all leads back to _you_ , Tom! You tried to kill him when you promised that you wouldn't hurt him!"

Something momentarily flickered behind Tom's eyes, but it was indistinguishable. Then, he growled and picked up the nearest object, which happened to be a decorative vase, and promptly hurtled it against the wall. Shards shattered everywhere, crunching underneath Tom's shoes as he stepped threateningly towards Corinne.

"I did it because of _you_ ," Tom said lowly, his voice trembling with lividness. "What Malfoy did was despicable. He deserved it. Why can't you accept that?"

"Tom, you almost killed him!" Corinne exclaimed, incredulous. "Why do you act as though that's okay?"

"It is if they deserve it," Tom replied cooly, his eyes darkening.

Suddenly, a terrible thought struck Corinne. She took a cautious step backwards, shaking her head. "Tom, you haven't...you haven't done that sort of thing to anyone before Malfoy, have you?"

Tom's features were scarily blank. "Would you believe me if I said no?"

Somehow, that was worse than him denying it. A voice in the back of her mind was telling her that this wasn't the first time she's suspected Tom of malice and darkness.

Horrified, Corinne turned and bolted towards the door. Right as her hand brushed the handle, she heard a locking noise. The door wouldn't budge when she frantically pulled at it.

"Don't leave," she heard Tom say quietly behind her.

Corinne spun around and was startled by his closeness, pressing herself against the door. She bit her tongue to prevent herself from shouting.

"Please," Tom added, lowering his wand. "Don't leave."

"Give me one good reason why I should stay," Corinne said tersely, throwing her hands up. "You lied to me, and I know you're hiding more things from me."

"I'll tell you everything you want to know."

Corinne's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Everything?"

Tom nodded firmly. He was still bizarrely calm. "Everything."


	38. Restored Memory

_May, 1944_

Corinne was the type of person who had to witness things physically in order to believe them. But she was usually not very good at deciding when one was telling her the truth, for she didn't understand people very much due to her lack of social skills.

How was she supposed to know now if Tom was being sincere? After he lied to her about what he'd done to Abraxas, and the seemingly countless other lies he's most likely told? How was she to prevent herself from being deceived yet again?

_I would never lie to you, Corinne,_ Tom had told her not long ago.

And Corinne had believed him. She was so utterly enchanted by Tom Riddle that she'd managed to convince herself briefly that he would never lie to her. That he loved her too much to be anything but truthful.

Once again, she was proven wrong.

"You don't believe me," Tom suddenly said, bringing Corinne's focus back to him. His temper had completely subsided. "You don't believe I will tell you the truth."

"I don't," Corinne agreed, swallowing hard. "But can you blame me?"

"Of course not," said Tom, surprising her. "You have every right to be angry with me."

Before Corinne could respond, she faltered, watching as Tom turned and strode over to a glass cabinet by the fireplace that contained his personal collection of potions. He swept his finger along the neat labels on the shelves until he stopped and plucked up a small vial of clear liquid.

"What is that?" Corinne asked as Tom unscrewed the cork from the vial with an audible _pop_.

"A way to ensure you that whatever I say will be truthful," said Tom, and before Corinne could object, he tilted his head back and downed the potion in one gulp. Then he handed her the empty bottle.

"Veritaserum," Corinne read the label, nearly laughing. "And how do I know you didn't drink plain water just now to fool me?"

Tom's lips quirked into a small smirk. "Your cleverness is underestimated," he said, amused. "I suppose there's only one way to test if the Veritaserum is legitimate?" 

Corinne grew impatient. Tom was never this agreeable. She realized with irritation that he was stalling. "Alright. You said you would tell me everything, so start with this: Why did you lie to me?"

Tom's reply was prompt and simple. "To protect you."

"From what?" Corinne asked eagerly. "From whom?"

If Tom was in any way struggling to resist the effects of Veritaserum, it was not noticeable. He was atypically unperturbed. Surely Tom's aptitude in virtually everything didn't apply to fighting off the most powerful truth serum, did it?

Finally, Tom sighed, bringing his gaze away and staring into the emerald flames flickering in the fireplace. The firelight cast haunting shadows across his sculpted features.

"The life I live is ill-fitted for someone like you," Tom explained, fiddling with the ring on his finger. "The dealings I participate in, the people I associate with, what I believe in. While that life is suitable for me, it is not for you. Our fates are separate. While you, Corinne, epitomize what is innocent and pure in this world, my life which is viewed as a dark one cannot afford to taint who you are."

Corinne let this sink in, digesting his words with difficulty. "I don't understand. Are you saying...that we can't be together?"

Tom turned his head towards her. Something in his eyes made Corinne believe that there was much more he wanted to say, but he held back. "Yes. That is what I'm saying."

Corinne looked away, biting her lip while holding back tears. Then, something occurred to her that she'd been harboring for months. The word stood out in her head as though it were plastered on a marquee embroidered in bright lights. She did not know why it felt important, or why she suspected it had anything to do with Tom. But it was worth asking about, since he was obligated by Veritaserum to be honest.

Corinne took a shuddering breath, carefully choosing her next words, "This life you speak of...it wouldn't happen to have anything to do with Horcruxes, would it?"

Tom's face paled significantly. He braced himself against the wall with his hand, his eyes wide and his lips parted. His voice was unsteady. "Corinne, where did you hear that word?"

"I don't remember," Corinne lied, knowing very well that she could not fool him.

"Answer me," Tom snapped through gritted teeth.

"A book," Corinne told him quickly. "I-I read it in a book."

"Which book?"

Corinne pondered the title for a moment, then admitted shyly, " _Magick Moste Evile_ , I believe."

Tom stared at her, his jaw set. "What were you doing reading that volume?"

Somehow, the tables had turned. Their roles were reversed. Now _Tom_ was the one doing the interrogating. And Corinne knew he would stop at nothing until he found out the truth.

So, she was honest. "I really don't know. I found the book in my schoolbag, although I don't why I was in possession of it. For some reason, I checked it out of the library back in December. But I would never borrow a book on the Dark Arts for the sake of a pleasurable read."

Tom was avoiding eye contact, still staring hard into the fire. His fists were balled up and his mouth was pursed tightly, no doubt from fighting the potion stirring in his system. So the dose of Veritaserum he drank _was_ real. But why would he take it if he didn't want to tell the truth? Why put forth the effort just to prove a point?

"Tom, what is it?" Corinne couldn't help but ask. "What is it that you know?"

"I'm the reason you don't remember," he blurted out in a rush, the words exploding out of him.

Corinne gaped at him, her brows furrowing. "What?"

"You don't remember," said Tom, his eyes downcast. "Because I made you forget."

"You _obliviated_ me?" Corinne demanded incredulously, her voice rising two octaves. Her body began to tremble with anger. "Why? Tom, what did you make me forget?"

"No," Tom said firmly, seeming to have recovered his self control. "You don't need to know."

"Tell me, Tom!" Corinne shouted, her last bit of patience evaporated. "You forcibly _took_ one of my memories! You had _no right!_ I deserve to know!"

Corinne could practically see the inner turmoil revolving inside Tom just by the look in his eyes. It pained him to do this. Was he remorseful? Did he feel guilty for what he'd done? Could Tom Riddle even feel regret, after all he's done to her?

She watched with interest as Tom withdrew his wand from his robes and slowly stepped towards her. The sight made Corinne's heart leap with panic, as though she'd witnessed this sort of situation before, as she began to back away.

"Please don't be afraid of me," Tom said gently, holding his hand out to her. When he approached, Corinne let him take hold of her hand and bring her forward. Resisting him was like a sailor ignoring a siren.

"I'm not afraid," Corinne replied tentatively, looking into Tom's eyes. "But I don't trust you."

Tom nodded and frowned. "I understand. But I only mean to return the one memory I took from you. You are right; you deserve to remember it. That is, if you still want to."

Corinne tilted her head to the side. "Why wouldn't I? You act as though returning this memory is a bad thing."

Tom's expression was grave as he looked down at their still-intertwined hands. "Just know that once you recall what I _obliviated_ from your memory, you won't view me as the same person."

Corinne thought about his offer. What if whatever memory Tom returned to her made her hate him? What if it ended whatever relationship they had? Was Corinne ready to let that go? To let _him_ go?

Living in blissful ignorance wasn't the answer. Being naturally curious, Corinne had to know or it would eat her up inside.

She held her chin up, nodding in confirmation. "I must know."

Tom looked reluctant, but nonetheless agreed. "As you wish."

While it was a risk allowing Tom to point his wand to her head, Corinne let him, despite being aware that right then and now, he had the power to _obliviate_ her again or even kill her. She was afraid her judgement of Tom would be wrong once again, until he closed his eyes and whispered something under his breath, and a cool sensation seeped through Corinne's skull.

Followed by a sharp pain in the center of her forehead that made her cry out.

It was a sudden and quick pain, leaving Corinne's vision blurry and her head light, causing her to rely on Tom for balance. Despite this, he did not stop the process. Eventually the pain subsided and was replaced with a mind-numbing, icy blast projecting into her head. Corinne's eyes glassed over as slowly, the memory that was stolen was restored piece by piece.

_She was standing in a cracked doorway, peering inside. It was Professor Slughorn's office. Tom was inside with Slughorn, immersed in a serious conversation. Bits of the dialogue rang out in her head_.

_"You must understand that the soul is supposed to remain intact and whole. Splitting it is an act of violation, it is against nature."_

_"Killing rips the soul apart. The wizard intent upon creating a Horcrux would use the damage to his advantage..."_

_"Can you only split your soul once? Wouldn't it be better, make you stronger, to have your soul in more pieces, I mean, for instance, isn't seven the most powerfully magical number, wouldn't seven-?"_

_Then Corinne was transported to another scene. She was in the Room of Requirement with Tom. His expression was dark, his eyes murderous. He pushed her back against the sofa, trapping her. She'd never been frightened of Tom until that night._

_"You cannot fool me anymore, Corinne," he had hissed. "I know you eavesdropped on me and Slughorn. I know you know about Horcruxes."_

_Corinne remembered him threatening her, the way he'd gripped her shoulders roughly, his swift movement as he pulled out his wand and pressed it to her temple._

_She remembered the moment he uttered, "Obliviate."_

* * *

When Tom brought his wand away from Corinne, he watched as the truth dawned on her. He witnessed her change in emotions as she opened her eyes and was momentarily confused, then overwhelmed. Then when her eyes met his, her face scrunched in horror. Corinne's hand that had previously been placed on his shoulder flew up to her agape mouth, tears pooling in her eyes as she stepped backwards. Tom averted his gaze, frowning.

He'd warned her. And now her entire world was flipped upside down.

_It's best if she knows_ , Tom thought. _It's best if she is afraid of me._

Their affair had gone on for too long. One part of Tom's life was beginning to entangle itself in the other. He'd worked so hard to keep Corinne separate from his plans, from everything he'd done to obtain his immortality. Now that balance was compromised.

Truly, not everyone could have it all. Not even Lord Voldemort.

Corinne knew about his Horcruxes again, which meant that she already knew far too much than she should. If anyone other than Corinne had come across his secrets, and Tom had decided not to kill them, he wouldn't care what happened to them. He wouldn't care if they began to participate in Dark Magic or even started believing in his cause. But that wasn't a life meant for Corinne. She was supposed to live a normal life; marry a good man, start a family, grow happy and old with someone who could keep her safe.

Tom had other plans for his life. He was meant to make a difference and change the corrupted ways of the wizarding world. One day, he would become the most powerful and feared sorcerer in existence and eradicate the Muggleborn race.

That was supposed to be enough for him.

Yet, looking at the frightened girl before him, who was staring wide-eyed at him like he was a monster, something burned in Tom's chest.

He had to make a choice. It was either Corinne or power.

"You hate me," Tom stated, curious how Corinne would respond.

She shook her head and turned her back to him, whispering almost inaudibly. "I can't look at you right now."

"Does this change everything?" Tom asked her. "Does it change how you feel about me?"

Corinne stiffened. She slowly spun back around, her expression stony. "Yes, this changes everything," she confirmed. "But as to how I feel about you, I wish I could say I don't care for you anymore. I wish I had the strength to walk away and never speak to you again."

Tom gulped. He wished he had more strength to do the same. "It would be easier for you in the long-run if you walked away from me."

Corinne gave him a watery smile. "Is it foolish of me to say that part of me doesn't want to take the easy route?"

This wasn't what was supposed to happen. It was almost unnerving how much Tom could tell Corinne was attached to him. He thought back towards the beginning of the school year when he declared that he would get her to fall in love with him as a way of using her. Tom never imagined the intensity of her affection would become as it has now. It was never supposed to grow into unconditional love.

And Tom was never supposed to reciprocate anywhere close to those type of feelings.

There was one thing that would undoubtedly change her mind about him, and he knew exactly what he needed to do in order to do so.

"Will you go somewhere with me?" Tom asked Corinne, holding his hand out for her to take.

Corinne eyed his tempting outstretched hand, no doubt battling with her conscience. "Where?"

Tom thought back to the incident last June that resulted in the death of the Muggleborn girl. He couldn't stifle his smirk. "The place that started it all."


	39. The Painful Truth

_May, 1944_

Every nerve in Corinne's body was on edge, every fiber of her being screaming for her to stop.

 _Stop!_ everything in her pleaded. _Don't trust him anymore! Don't fall for his tricks!_

And yet, Corinne allowed Tom to guide her through the empty corridors of Hogwarts, the Quietening Charm placed on each of them muffling their footsteps. While the charm was only a precaution insisted upon by Tom, it wasn't necessary, for it was a warm spring Saturday that was ideal for everyone to spend their day at Hogsmeade. Corinne and Tom walked for what seemed like a long time, taking hidden staircases- obviously scarcely used- that Corinne didn't even know existed instead of the main one that linked all seven floors. This part of the castle was nearly dark from the lack of torches lighting the way, making each foot placement on the crumbling stone steps hazardous. Tom navigated his way down them with ease.

Corinne found herself out of breath attempting to keep up with Tom's long, quick strides. She grew more and more agitated by the second.

"I hope you're not leading me someplace where no one will hear me scream," she remarked sardonically.

Tom exhaled a laugh through his nose, smirking. "Amusing."

Nonetheless, they continued on in silence. The whole time, Corinne experienced self-doubt. Why was she following him? Within the past hour, Tom has proven that he can no longer be trusted. So what made this time any different?

Was she in denial? Did a tiny part of her still believe in him? Was this her way of granting him one last chance to redeem himself?

"Tom," Corinne couldn't help but blurt out, making Tom halt abruptly on the step below her. He did not rotate to face her. "Enough of the games. Where are you taking me?"

"I told you where," he replied cooly.

Corinne gritted her teeth. "This was a mistake." When she turned to walk back up the stairs, Tom caught her by the wrist, his touch shooting a pang of electricity up her arm.

"I assure you," said Tom, squeezing Corinne's wrist, prompting her to look back down at him. The soft light emitting from the wall sconces cast shadows across his delicate features. "This is not a mistake."

Corinne swallowed at his words. The look that passed between them sent a pang of unease in her chest. She was going to regret putting her faith in Tom, and she knew it. But instead of running away from uncertainty like the Corinne Carrow that existed eight months ago would, she gave Tom a firm nod to continue, and shadowed his lead once more.

Her confusion only escalated when the staircase ended at a wooden door, which Tom led her through into a familiar corridor. Memories flooded into Corinne's mind of herself taking this route many years ago to the first floor girls' lavatory. For almost a year, it had been out of order since Myrtle Warren was killed there. Supposedly, Myrtle haunted the bathroom to this day. Even the very corridor Corinne and Tom stood in was freezing, as though it were warning them that they were close to Myrtle's territory.

"Why are we here?" Corinne asked, her teeth chattering as she rubbed her hands over her arms. Her breath emitted vapor into the chilly air, despite it being May.

Tom said nothing, his focus locked on the girls' lavatory door at the end of the corridor as he started towards it. He gestured for Corinne to follow him.

"We're not really going in _there_ , are we?" she asked, staring at Tom in disbelief.

He blinked. "Isn't it obvious that we are?"

Corinne shook her head adamantly, her mouth agape. "Absolutely not! Are you mad? I swear to Merlin, Tom Riddle, if this is your way of admitting that you also spend your free time wondering into girl's lavatories-"

Tom held up his hand, stopping her. "Do you honestly believe I would stoop so low?"

Corinne shrugged. "I don't know what to believe of you anymore."

"Fair argument." Tom pushed open the lavatory door, gesturing for Corinne to enter before him. "After you."

Upon him opening the door, a blast of icy air hit Corinne in the face, startling her. The last thing she wanted to do was enter a bathroom that an innocent girl died in with Tom Riddle. But as he urged her with his persistent eyes to enter, Corinne didn't see how she would get herself out of this. Plus, curiosity nipped at her senses, pressing her to do whatever Tom requested. She despised how he piqued her curiosity.

Before Corinne could change her mind, she slid past Tom and crossed into the lavatory.

The first thing she noticed was how desolate the bathroom was. Little light shone through the grimy stained-glass windows. The room reeked of toilet water and sewage, the tile floor damp and mildewing. Corinne and Tom had to avoid stepping in puddles of water and clumps of wet paper plastered to the tiles. The wooden stall doors were each flung open- some hanging by a hinge- except for the farthest one, which was closed.

Corinne felt wrong for being here. She and Tom were violating a space in which a tragic event occurred. Someone was _killed_ in this very room. It was improper to disturb her final resting place.

"Alright, we're here," Corinne broke the silence, trying to ease her current unsettlement. "Explain why."

"This isn't the place I meant to take you," Tom said, making his way over to the tall sink fixture in the center of the room. The mirrors were so smeared and grubby that his reflection was blurry. "It is merely the entrance."

As he said this, he stood before one of the sinks, his eyes blazing with eagerness.

"What are you-?" Corinne started to ask, before she was interrupted by a strange hissing sound from an unknown source. Her eyes darted wildly around the room, searching for what must have been a serpent. But then her gaze landed on Tom.

His lips were moving. Corinne realized, slightly alarmed, that he was the one speaking the bizarre hissing language. _Parseltongue_.

She approached him with caution as she was met with another surprise. The taps on the sink began to spin and emit white light. The sink trembled, vibrating the entire bathroom. Corinne watched in amazement as the sink started to lower into the floor, and a large pipe came into view. As the dust settled, Tom stood back, seemingly proud of his handiwork.

When Corinne found her ability to speak, she breathed out in awe, "Tom, what _is_ this?"

Tom eyed her curiously. "You wouldn't happen to know about something called the Chamber of Secrets, would you?"

"Vaguely," Corinne admitted. "Cyrus once told me about it when we were younger. But he said it was just a legend. Anyway, what does it have to do with this?"

"More than you'll ever know," Tom answered equivocally, then stepped aside and gestured to the pipe. "Ladies first."

Corinne exchanged glances between him and the pipe, then let out a laugh. "Wait, we're going down _that_ thing?"

Tom gave her a look that said, _Obviously._

She rolled her eyes. "You are unbelievable."

Tom sighed, clearly exasperated. "Would it make you feel better if I went first?"

"Not really."

"Very well." Tom sat down before the opening of the pipe. He added, "I expect to see you at the bottom."

And then he was gone.

Corinne wanted to scream out in frustration. She stormed towards the exit, tempted to leave and avoid whatever game Tom was playing. He was toying with her like a puppet, and she was well aware of it.

So why was she so hesitant to walk out the door?

 _I expect to see you at the bottom_ , Tom had told her, his usual arrogant tone clear in her mind.

"You bastard," Corinne whispered, stomping over to the pipe. It was just large enough to fit a person. It was dark and appeared endless. There was no telling where it led.

But that didn't stop her from crouching down at the entrance of the pipe and using her arms to push herself down it.

The moment she began to descend, Corinne could've sworn she heard a high-pitched, girlish giggle behind her.

* * *

Corinne shrieked the entire way down the pitch-black, slimy pipe. Its steepness made her feel like she was free-falling at a rapid rate, the speed taking the breath from her lungs. Undoubtably, this was worse than Side-Along Apparition with Tom. Especially since she didn't know when the ride would end or what awaited her at the bottom. At last, when Corinne saw light appear at the end of the pipe, she braced herself for a potentially rough impact.

And indeed, it was. She flew out of the pipe like a torpedo, yelping as her feet struck the ground and her knees buckled. Before Corinne could hit the ground, strong arms reached out and caught her. However, her momentum caused both her and Tom to topple backwards, leaving him lying flat on his back with Corinne sprawled on top of him. Their foreheads collided together painfully, causing them both to groan.

They laid entangled together for a moment, catching their breaths and gathering their wits. When Corinne recovered from the dizziness she felt from her adventure down the pipe, she lifted her head from Tom's shoulder and realized with surprise the position they were in. Their stomachs were pressed together, with Corinne's hands gripping Tom's arms. One of Tom's hands pressed into the small of her back, while the other gripped her thigh, exposed by Corinne's skirt hitched halfway up her legs on the way down the pipe. Blushing furiously, she chanced a look at Tom, who smirked at her.

"As much as our current position entices me," he said suggestively, "I suggest we separate before this gets out of hand."

"Oh, grow up," Corinne snapped, immediately rolling off of him. Part of her was reluctant to move away, and she despised herself for it. She surveyed their surroundings, noting the darkness of the apparent tunnel and slime coating the walls, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "What is this place?"

Tom winced as he sat up and stood, offering Corinne his hand to help her up also, who refused and did so on her own. Somehow, his appearance wasn't very much disheveled except for the faint stains on his trousers and jumper, while Corinne's blouse and skirt were torn and blotted with scum. She sighed, attempting to smooth her damp outfit and hair.

"What if I told you that the Chamber of Secrets was real?" said Tom. "And that we were standing in its threshold?"

Corinne didn't know whether to laugh or question if he'd hit his head on the way down the pipe. "That's impossible," she said. "The Chamber of Secrets is a myth."

"I once thought the same thing," Tom countered. Then he started down the tunnel, indicating Corinne with a tilt of his head. "Follow me."

 _Not again_ , Corinne thought, a feeling of unease settling in her. Her heels were not very practical for this endeavor due to the slippery floor and what appeared to be... _bones_ littering the area. Tom did not stop to wait for her, as though he again expected her to follow him. She hated how frequently he was right.

Their journey down the murky tunnel ended short when they rounded a corner and met a large, circular vault door. Its stone surface was decorated with elaborately carved serpents entwined with one another. Tom stepped toward it and brushed his hand against them, almost lovingly.

"Corinne, what do you know about the Chamber of Secrets?" he asked, still facing the vault door.

Corinne recited what she knew from memory. "It was created under the dungeons of Hogwarts during Medieval times by Salazar Slytherin, who built the chamber before he left the school because he did not agree with the other three Founders' merit on blood purity."

Tom frowned. "It seems you only know the basic story. I expected as much." He paused, as if he were choosing his next words carefully. "Is that all you know of it?"

Corinne gulped, remembering when Caine and Clarice told her the darker part of the legend when she was just seven years old. She'd been so frightened for weeks that she couldn't bear to sleep with the lights off at night. Corinne would tremble in her bed with the duvet and sheet pulled over her head, fearing the monster from the Chamber of Secrets would eat her alive.

"I was told a monster lurks inside the chamber," said Corinne, her voice shuddering.

Tom didn't reply, but instead took a few steps back, still facing the door, and opened his mouth. Again, out came a sputtering of untranslatable Parseltongue. As he spoke a string incomprehensible words, the stone serpents adorning the vault door slid apart, the stone grinding against stone making Corinne wince. When the serpents withdrew, the vault door opened slowly with a low groan. A deep whistle and the sound of dripping water emitted from inside. Corinne didn't realize until then how violently her heart was beating.

"Is this...?" Her voice trailed off, speechless.

Tom nodded. " _This_ is the Chamber of Secrets." He then held out his hand for Corinne to take. "You may want to watch your step."

Still at a loss for words, Corinne let Tom guide her through the door, stepping into the chamber. The dark cavernous room was overwhelmingly vast, flanked with towering pillars twined with carved wood lining the glistening runway. Their footsteps slapped against the wet floor as they strode forward, allowing Corinne to take in the chamber's true size. Truly the most remarkable feature was the unmistakable massive statue of a sinister-looking man at the far end of the runway. The statue's mouth gaped open as if it were permanently surprised.

"The statue is of Salazar Slytherin," said Tom, seeming to read Corinne's mind.

That made sense. After all, Salazar Slytherin was the one who built this chamber; a chamber that Corinne had always believed to be a legend. Now, she was standing in the middle of it.

"I don't..." Corinne didn't know what to say. She let out a nervous laugh of disbelief. "How? How did you manage to find this place?"

Tom was busy gazing around the chamber, as though he were reminiscent. Then, he turned to Corinne, his expression eerily calm as he announced, "I am the heir of Salazar Slytherin."

Corinne stared at him, waiting for him to declare that this was all a joke. But at that moment, he'd never looked more grave.

Suddenly, pieces began to click. She recalled, according to the legend, that only an heir of Slytherin can open the Chamber of Secrets. Only those directly descended from Slytherin could speak Parseltongue, which explained how Tom could open the chamber. This all made sense.

But the rest didn't.

"Tom, you're starting scaring me," said Corinne lowly, stepping backwards. "Why did you bring me down here?"

Tom began to pace, his hands clasped behind his back. "It's time you realize the truth about me. You need to know the kind of person I really am. It...it's for your own good."

"Okay," Corinne said, worried about the route this conversation was turning.

"Salazar Slytherin had one belief in mind when he and the other Founders established Hogwarts," Tom explained. "He believed that Muggleborn students should not be accepted to study amongst Pureblood wizards. He wanted to eradicate their race from the school, but the other Founders disagreed with his philosophy. And so, as you mentioned, he left Hogwarts. But before doing so, he built the Chamber of Secrets, home to the monster you spoke of that was meant to carry out Slytherin's wish to destroy all Muggleborn witches and wizards in the school."

Tom paused to let Corinne to digest his words. She still did not understand why she was being told all of this.

"Over several generations," Tom continued, "Many conducted searches of Hogwarts to locate the chamber, but none were successful. Not until quite recently."

" _You_ were successful, weren't you?" Corinne concluded, earning a nod from Tom. "I assume tonight wasn't the first time you opened the chamber. When did you do it?"

"A year ago."

"Why?"

Tom cast his glance toward the Slytherin statue, as he replied with an odd glint in his eyes, "To fulfill Salazar Slytherin's noble deed. To finish what he started."

Corinne's breath hitched in her throat. She stared at Tom long and hard, tears burning her vision. "No, Tom. Y-You don't mean that..."

"I think you can recall what else occurred almost a year ago; how a monster was set loose in the school, injuring many and killing a Muggleborn girl. You don't really think that an oaf like Rubeus Hagrid orchestrated an event like that, do you? A young Acromantula such as the one he kept as a pet would never wreak the same amount of havoc that my monster did. Yes, _I_ was able to control the very Basilisk that Salazar Slytherin meant to use to purify the school. _I was responsible for it all."_

"Stop!" Corinne shouted, choking out a sob. She didn't know which was stronger; her fear or her anguish. She couldn't handle this. She had wanted the truth, but this...this was too much for her to process. Her entire source of happiness was falling apart before her eyes and there was nothing she could do to stop it. "I don't want to hear this!"

Tom ignored her, and for the first time since arriving inside the chamber, he stopped pacing and rushed towards Corinne until they were nearly touching. His eyes were simultaneously wild and full of despair. "And did you ever stop to think about why I was so interested in Horcruxes? Isn't it obvious? I want to be immortal and all-powerful. I already _am_ immortal. My soul has been split twice, and I intend to do it five more times in order to become unstoppable. Tell me, do you know what needs to happen for one to create a Horcrux?"

When Corinne didn't reply, too afraid to do so, Tom leaned forward and inched his lips close to her ear, whispering, "I've murdered, Corinne. I've murdered in cold blood for my own personal gain. I've tortured people to the point of them wanting to be dead. I killed my own filthy Muggle father and grandparents. And if I had the chance to do it again, I would _gladly_ accept the opportunity."

Corinne was frozen in place, stunned by her emotions. Tom remained fixated in place, his mouth hovering just by her neck. She could feel his labored breaths against her skin.

The truth settled heavily in Corinne's stomach. In a way, she expected this, and has been for a long time. She always suspected Tom possessed a certain darkness from the very moment they met after they were Sorted into Slytherin together when they were eleven years old. Until now, she did not realize the magnitude of his situation. Now, she was paying heavily for it.

Despite every lie he's told her, despite him stealing a memory from her, despite him just confessing to multiple murders, despite every deception he's put her through, and despite his true twisted phycology now being exposed, Corinne had the strength to say for the first time, "I love you."

Tom brought his face back to look into Corinne's eyes. His expression was pained. " _Don't_ say that. Not after everything I just told you. You're a bigger fool than I thought if you really expect everything to be the same between us."

He was right, as always. Things would never been the same between them. After tonight, it was all over. And that was harder for Corinne to accept than hearing that the man she loved was an entirely different person.

"Answer one thing for me," Corinne said softly, closing her eyes as though not looking at Tom would make this easier. "And be honest. If you really are as cruel as you say you are, then try to have enough mercy on my behalf to be honest with me."

Tom's voice was gentle, unlike his tone had been for the past few minutes. "You will have my utmost honesty."

This time, Corinne opened her eyes. She held back tears as she asked, "Does what we've shared over the course of this year mean anything to you?"

Tom was silent for a moment, appearing thoughtful, as though he were taking the time to ponder each and every day they spent together. As though this was the last time he was allowing himself to reminisce. His expression was solemn as he replied, "You will one day realize that our lives were never meant to entangle. What we experienced this year cannot mean anything."

Something released inside of Corinne after Tom said this. She didn't know how to describe it. But somehow, it was exactly what she needed to hear.


	40. Better Off Without Him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mild smut

_June, 1944_

And indeed, nothing was ever the same after that dreadful May evening.

Corinne had left the Chamber of Secrets without a word- not even a goodbye- and immediately retreated to the Room of Requirement to gather up her belongings. Tom never returned from the chamber that night to bid her farewell when she left.

The next morning Corinne summoned up the courage to visit Headmaster Dippet in his office and request a new dormitory. It was an unusual plea, with it being so close to the summer holidays. But Corinne wasn't prepared to move back into her old dormitory and be tormented by Olive Hornby for the remainder of the school year.

"Might I ask why your current dormitory does not suffice?" Headmaster Dippet had asked her suspiciously, his inquisitive beady eyes scanning her like a lie detector. "Are you not happy with Misses Hornby, Seymour, Greengrass, and Umbridge? They are such well-behaved young ladies!"

Corinne had to restrain her unladylike snort. She decided against blaming it on the girls in case Headmaster Dippet spoke with them about the matter, thus risking placing a target on herself. Plus, they would surely tell him that Corinne hadn't even been living in their dormitory all year. She'd made it this far without her whereabouts being found out; she couldn't risk it now.

Her reply to the headmaster was orchestrated very carefully. "Sir, my desire in a change of accommodations is not because of my current roommates," she explained, "but I feel as though a new environment would benefit me and my studies. You see, sir, my marks haven't been the best this year..."

Headmaster Dippet raised an eyebrow. "And this is because of your roommates?"

"Partly," Corinne lied, pushing away her thoughts of a certain handsome black-haired boy.

The headmaster hummed as he considered, stroking his white beard. Corinne tried not to fidget under his gaze. Finally, Dippet lightly clapped his hands together and said, "Alright. I will see what I can do for you, Miss Carrow."

Two days later, Corinne was able to move into her new dormitory where an extra bed was available. Three other Slytherin girls occupied the room, each of them 4th years. They weren't very friendly except towards each other, frowning upon anyone who dared intrude on their friendship. The girls didn't even bother to inform Corinne of their first names. All she knew of them were their surnames; Macnair, Travers, and Ingle- none of which could Corinne match with their corresponding name.

Nevertheless, it was an easy adjustment at first. Corinne's life became calm and ordinary again. Everyday was the same routine, just like that of an average Hogwarts student. Nothing unexpected, spontaneous, or particularly exciting happened. For a brief time, Corinne was content with this.

But as June approached and the term was just weeks from ending, the feeling of stagnancy and lethargy crept in. Corinne's source of happiness for what felt like a lifetime had been ripped out from under her like a rug. She was utterly lost.

Most days she spent her evenings staring out the underwater window in the Slytherin common room, reminding her of all those wonderful nights spent by the Black Lake. Occasionally she would escape up to the Astronomy Tower, her eyes instinctively glued to the staircase and her ears straining for any sign of oncoming footsteps of the visitor she so desperately wanted to see. And most demeaning of all, one day on what seemed to be of her heart's own accord, Corinne found herself wandering up and down the all-too-familiar seventh floor corridor, seeking the doors of the Room of Requirement simply for the sake of gazing upon.

And when she stood before the wall where the tall doors usually appeared, and discovered that they would no long materialize in her presence, she couldn't help but fall to her knees and sob.

Now, it was Corinne's last night of her 6th year at Hogwarts. In the morning, she would depart and meet Cyrus at Kings Cross, where they would leave from there on foot and head to their late Grandfather Scovell's flat in London. Corinne kept having to remind herself that she would not be returning to Carrow mansion.

After she packed her trunk immediately following dinner, she decided to take a stroll along the south side of the grounds. It wasn't a particularly hot summer evening, for it had rained the previous few days. The air was slightly sticky but breathable. The grass was damp and the trees cried water droplets from their blooming leaves. Earthy aromas drifted amidst the heat.

Corinne was fond of this area of the grounds not only for its beauty and serenity, but also for the memories it beheld. She was drawn to the familiar hillside leading down to the lake, where she hiked down and stood at the water's edge. The lake lapping up the shore was somewhat calming. For a while, Corinne stood watching the ripples cascading across the water, forgetting the real reason she came here. Only when her fingers involuntarily brushed the necklace she still kept around her neck did she relapse back into reality.

She didn't want to do this. The necklace was her last link to _him_ , and even though they hadn't spoken in a month, she could never force herself to sever this tie. Not until tonight.

With trembling fingers, Corinne reached behind her and unclasped the necklace's chain, withdrawing it from her neck. She held the pendant in her palm, taking one last moment to admire its strangeness. Whatever the symbol meant was still a mystery, and would probably forever remain one. Its true significance never did matter. Corinne's reason for treasuring it was far more valuable.

Now it was time to part from it. To start fresh, where she belonged to no one and was only responsible for herself.

Corinne extracted her wand from its makeshift holster- the belt tying her dress together. Exhaling a shaky breath, she muttered, " _Wingardium Leviosa._ "

Instantly, the necklace levitated into the air, hovering inches from her hand. The metal pendant gleamed in the moonlight as Corinne rotated it with her wand. Then, she urged the necklace to rise higher before it began floating out further above the lake. Corinne pointed and twisted her wand, keeping her eye on the piece of jewelry until she could no longer see it. That's when she decided it was far enough.

Corinne kept the necklace hovering just over the lake's surface, tempted by each second to bring it back to her. _No_ , she reminded herself. _You don't need it anymore. It means nothing to you._

Before she could change her mind, Corinne closed her eyes and let her wand fall to her side, breaking the levitation spell. She didn't hear the necklace hit the water; it didn't even make the slightest of a splash. One second it was there, the next it was gone, descending farther and farther down towards the bottom of the Black Lake.

Corinne did not allow herself to stand there and mourn for long. Stray tears trickled down her face as she whispered, "Goodbye."

Then she turned away from the lake and headed back towards the castle.

* * *

_**One Year Later** _

The 1944-1945 school year began with promise and ended with relief. First semester was grueling for 7th year students, and even more so during the second. The world outside of Hogwarts and the wizarding community was disorderly and destructive as the Second World War commenced into its last year, finally ending in September of 1945. The future was thrilling and well-anticipated for those students in their last year at Hogwarts. There was that certain atmospheric buzz that existed among the class.

Even 17-year-old Corinne Carrow was affected by the charge. She'd grown more confident over the summer by some miracle, much to the surprise of her now much closer friends at the Gryffindor table. Euphemia Gates was now her best mate, and sat by her during every mealtime and class they shared. Fleamont Potter and Euphemia remained a strong couple throughout the year. Even Septimus Weasley and Olivia Thomas became an item for a short time, since Cedrella Black had graduated that past summer and she and Septimus briefly split.

What came as the biggest surprise was how quickly Corinne befriended and became fond of a new member of their friend group, a boy one year below her named Lyall Lupin. He was clever and almost as shy as Corinne once was, with a hidden talent in defensive magic. Euphemia claimed that Lyall fancied Corinne, to which Corinne always hastily denied. Lyall was kind and quite handsome, with shaggy light brown hair, slightly hooded blue eyes, and sun-kissed skin. If it weren't for one problem, Corinne may have grown to fancy him too.

He wasn't Tom Riddle.

Very rarely did Corinne see Tom anymore, nor has she spoken to him since May of last year. They were total strangers throughout their 7th year. They shared no classes together, for Tom took more advanced classes that Hogwarts now offered for the exceptional rank of students. The only instances they caught each others gazes were during mealtimes and occasionally in the corridors on their way to separate classes. For the rest of the time, it was as though they didn't exist in each other's eyes.

It was truly strange- no, _surreal_ \- how two people who were once practically inseparable and shared such a powerful connection could now have nothing to do with one another. They belonged to different worlds; Tom in his gang of Slytherin followers and Corinne in her own respectable friend group. Both appeared content without the other, but deep down, they each felt hollow.

Neither of them realized this until suddenly it was June of 1945, and their remaining days at Hogwarts were enough to count on one hand.

When you were only days away from leaving the place where you'd grown up and made lifelong memories, it was hard to not reminisce. And Corinne could not help but remember the most unforgettable year of her life.

In mere days, she would most likely never see Tom Riddle again. She would never again get to gaze upon his regal face or his deep blue eyes that had once made her grow weak in the knees whenever she beheld them. His hands would never again caress her, his lips would never touch hers, his voice would never whisper to her...

Corinne knew a year ago that once she let Tom go, no man would ever care for her again as he once did.

At last the fateful day arrived when 7th year students had to say their goodbyes and walk through their beloved school's many corridors one final time. The next morning, everyone was to board the Hogwarts Express back home.

There was a time when Corinne prayed for this day to come. She used to count down the days until her very last day at Hogwarts, when she could finally be free. But now that that day was actually here, the excitement wasn't as strong as anticipated. In fact, it was rather a depressing occasion. No matter how hard school had been for Corinne, it was still home.

The 7th year Gryffindor's were throwing a party in their common room, which Corinne declined to attend when Euphemia asked her to come. She really wasn't in a party mood. Instead, she settled for roaming the corridors, soaking in everything as though she were a sponge absorbing memories. As Corinne passed the Transfiguration classroom, she stopped to gaze inside one last time. She didn't notice Professor Dumbledore standing by the window until he beamed and motioned for her to enter.

"I too strolled through Hogwarts on my very last day of school," he said amusingly, peering at Corinne over his spectacles with a knowing smile as she approached. "The immensity of it all takes quite a toll on you, doesn't it?"

Corinne nodded wearily. "Yes, sir."

Dumbledore studied her for a moment. "Something is troubling you, my dear. What is it?"

Corinne didn't know where to begin to explain. She couldn't pinpoint exactly what she was feeling. Was she sad? Glad? Utterly overwhelmed?

"To be honest sir, I'm not quite sure," Corinne admitted sheepishly, twisting her fingers. "I suppose I'm just consumed by the usual nerves one has when they're about to enter a new chapter in their life."

"Ah," said Dumbledore. "Well, that's to be expected. But I sense something else is bothering you." The professor paused, tilting his head. "I see you're not wearing the necklace you used to wear everyday."

Corinne reached for it on instinct, even a year after she'd tossed it into the Black Lake. She frowned and gazed out the window at the setting sun. "It was time to part from it, sir."

Dumbledore seemed to catch on to her double meaning and nodded. Then, he set his hand on Corinne's arm, startling her. She watched the kind professor's expression grow earnest as he told her, "Trust me, Miss Carrow. You are far better off without him."

This time, Corinne understand Dumbledore's double meaning. A look of comprehension passed between them. And with that, the professor bid Corinne farewell and departed from the classroom.

Somehow, Dumbledore's last words to her prompted her as she found herself wandering up to the seventh floor, wanting to visit one last place before she left.

The Room of Requirement door still did not appear for her. Corinne expected this, but felt that she had to make sure before her opportunity was lost forever. As she turned to leave, she instantly stopped in her tracks when she heard a low voice behind her say, "What are you doing here?"

Corinne knew that voice. She would never forget it as long as she would live. Forcing herself to turn around, Corinne now stood facing Tom Riddle, speaking to him for the first time in a year. "Exactly what you think."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "I see."

An uncomfortable silence grew, as Corinne and Tom stood observing each other, no doubt noting the subtle changes between them. For the most part, Tom appeared exactly the same except that his hair had grown slightly longer and a faint shadow of stubble lined his jaw. Corinne knew she was different; it was in the way she now carried herself. Tom couldn't keep his eyes off of her. He was the first one to clear his throat and break the silence.

"Would you like to come inside?" he asked, gesturing to the Room of Requirement doors that were now visible.

 _Don't do it_ , Corinne's conscience screamed. _You know exactly what's going to happen if you walk in there with him._

She should have listened to her conscience. But she didn't.

Entering the Room of Requirement was like walking into her old home. Corinne missed its comforting smell of the burning fire, old books, and earthen stone. Tom hadn't changed a thing about the room since she had lived in there with him. It was almost refreshing.

Corinne followed Tom to the sitting area, where he sat in his plush green armchair and she took a seat on the sofa. Memories flooded into her mind of every moment they spent in this room. It was their safe haven, where they talked, fought, and of course, kissed. Tom seemed to be reminiscing as well, gazing everywhere but at Corinne.

It was she who broke the silence this time. "Why did you invite me in here?"

Tom finally looked at her. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

Corinne shook her head. "You and I both know I shouldn't be in here. Not after..." She let out a shaky sigh, her voice softening. "Not after everything."

"Everything," Tom repeated. They were both aware of the weight of that word. It brought back painful memories.

Corinne didn't know where her courage came from as she blurted out, "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," Tom said lowly.

Corinne shuddered. She felt a horrible sense of déjà vu and swallowed with difficulty. "Did you ever use me?"

"Use you how?"

"Did you ever use me for, you know...your _plans._ "

Tom seemed to know exactly what she was referencing. "You mean did I ever manipulate you for my personal benefit?" Corinne gulped and nodded, and he added, "Yes, I did manipulate you."

"Why?" Corinne asked. "Why did you keep me around for so long? Was all of it a lie?"

"You know that's not-"

Corinne grew more impassioned, rising to her feet. "You said so yourself that we were never meant to be together. If that's so, then why did you even begin this mess in the first place?"

"I was _wrong,_ " Tom said fiercely, his eyes blazing as he also sprang to his feet. "I was wrong before when I said that what we shared couldn't mean anything." As soon as he uttered these words, his mouth promptly clamped shut.

Corinne stared at him, her eyes wide and heart thumping wildly. "Then what did it mean? You're not making any sense, Tom-"

Suddenly, Tom was right in front of Corinne, gripping her shoulders. She froze, gazing at him completely bewildered. His eyes were wild and desperate. "Corinne, you need to understand that what we shared meant the _world_ to me."

Corinne didn't know how it happened. She should have foreseen it and run away before Tom ever tempted her. But when he gathered her in his arms and crushed his lips against her mouth, causing her to gasp, she lost all inhibition that had been restraining her.

A year's worth of secretly craving each other seemed to explode out of them. Their hands flew everywhere, touching wherever they could access with their bodies pressed flush together. Their kisses grew hot and open-mouthed before Tom's lips ventured over every bit of exposed skin around her jaw, neck, and collarbone. Corinne pulled Tom's blazer off his shoulders and ran her hands over the thin material of his button-up shirt, feeling the hard planes of his stomach and chest. Soon, Corinne's jumper joined Tom's blazer in a pile on the floor.

Tom groaned as one of Corinne's hands trailed across the skin above his trousers while the other tugged at his hair, when simultaneously his hands roamed under the hem of her blouse. Somehow the two of them fell onto the sofa, and their clothes were discarded across the room. Their moans filled the Room of Requirement as they caressed each other, both completely exposed.

They explored each other desperately in ways that drove their senses mad. Their arousal mounted like an unstoppable tsunami, their ardor intensifying like a roaring wildfire.

And when it was all over, Tom held Corinne against him as though she were more precious and valuable than a million Horcruxes.

This would be the last encounter they would have for a long time.

Early the next morning before Tom awoke, Corinne peeled herself out of his arms as carefully as she could without disturbing him. She kissed his forehead gently before she dressed herself, padding quietly across the room towards his desk to quickly scribble him a note. As Corinne laid the slip of parchment on top of his diary, she couldn't help but smile at the photograph of herself that Tom had taken of her a year ago still situated on the desk.

Corinne did not wait for Tom to wake up before she left. They did not see each other outside the Room of Requirement, nor on the train back to King's Cross.

 _Trust me, Miss Carrow_ , Dumbledore had said, _you are far better off without him._

* * *

Tom did not find Corinne in his arms when he woke up that morning. Instead, he found a short note written from her on his desk. The parchment was stained with tears.

_'Tom,_

_As I'm writing this, I'm realizing this is the last time I will be writing to you. I didn't think saying goodbye would be this hard. Not only am I losing the first person who called me his friend, but I'm also leaving behind somebody who was so much more. However, you and I both know that this is for the best._

_Thank you. For everything._

_Love, Corinne'_

* * *

_18 June, 1945_

_This will be the last time I write in this diary. The time has come for me to move on from Hogwarts, therefore I have nothing more to tell._

_Before I depart, I will hide this diary infused with a piece of my soul for someone worthy of continuing Salazar Slytherin's legacy to discover it in the future. Every page will be enchanted so no one but I shall gaze upon what I've written. And every mention of Corinne Carrow will be erased._

_After today, the future of the wizarding world begins. The process of a new age shall begin. The day will come when every wizard- man, woman, and child- will bow down before me. I will rule over them, proving that I am the most powerful sorcerer in existence. Nothing will stand in my way._

_I am Lord Voldemort._


	41. Eleven Years Later

_London, 1956_

It was a rainy and bitter cold December night. The street lamps had been extinguished to mask the cloaked stranger walking down the sidewalk, his way lit only by the fraction of the moon that occasionally peeked though the parting of the storm clouds. The tall figure reached his destination, stopping before an iron gate that bordered the front of a homely brick townhouse. He paused to study the outward appearance of the average-looking home, and was instantly displeased by its chipping paint, unkept lawn and hedges, and the crooked shutter adorning the topmost window. The figure ignored these abnormalities and descended down the path leading to the front door.

Tom Riddle, now known by his moniker Lord Voldemort, removed the hood from his head as he reached the door. Up close, he could see faint light emitting from the front window, outlining shapes of furniture one would find in a lounge. Shaking away every thought of abandoning his quest, Voldemort produced his wand from his robes, pointing it at the door.

" _Alohomora,_ " he whispered, followed by the click of the lock and the slight opening of the door. Voldemort pushed it open and silently strode inside, shutting the door behind him.

He stepped into the tiled foyer, nearly hitting his head on the low chandelier dangling from the ceiling. The front entrance branched off in four directions; just ahead was the option to walk upstairs to the second floor or continue past the staircase into what appeared to be a kitchen. To the left was an open dining room area with a long table taking up the space, each place setting decorated with fine china. It was evident that it was a room scarcely used. This portion of the house would have been completely dark if not for the lone candle casting soft light throughout the entry hall.

It was the room to Voldemort's right that caught his attention. Just as he'd suspected outside, this was the lounge. It was the only room in the house properly lit by a lamp. Voldemort strode soundlessly into the sitting room, listening for any sound of life coming from the upstairs rooms. Perhaps the homeowner was sleeping.

_But surely not at this hour,_ Voldemort thought _._ _It is well before midnight._ _She has always retired to bed at inopportune times._

And yet, she was nowhere in sight...

Unbeknownst to the Dark Lord, a young woman sat in the corner behind him, watching him curiously. Her seat was angled in such a way where one entering the lounge would not notice her at first glance. The woman didn't look the least bit fazed as she swept her gaze in the direction of the tall figure lurking in the dimmed room. "Good evening, Tom."

Voldemort, out of habit, gritted his teeth at the sound of his real name. But even after all these years, it was still acceptable that the woman before him was the only person who could still refer to him as Tom Riddle. Hearing his birth name uttered from her lips was almost endearing, in a way.

The Dark Lord emerged from the shadows, taking in the sight before him. Corinne Carrow, who had barely aged a day since 1945, sat surprisingly calm in a rocking chair cradling two infant-shaped bundles in both of her arms. Voldemort's startling appearance didn't seem to affect her. He couldn't help but draw a sharp intake of breath.

"I see you have your hands full," he said curtly, his emotionless eyes locked on the sleeping infants.

"I do," Corinne agreed, smiling softly down at her children, crinkles forming around her eyes. "A girl and a boy. Their names are Alecto and Amycus."

Voldemort nodded, his gaze darting down at her ringless left hand. "I don't suppose you married their father?"

Corinne shook her head, swallowing hard. "He left me after he found out I was expecting."

A twinge of unexplainable anger surged through the Dark Lord's chest. "His name?"

"You wouldn't know him."

"Tell me anyway."

Hesitating, Corinne sighed. "Barnabas Ridgeway."

Voldemort indeed did not recognize the name, but he would surely familiarize himself of it and track the man down one day. "Ridgeway. I'm not familiar with his lineage."

"I don't expect you to be," Corinne said matter-of-factly. "Barnabas is Muggleborn."

The Dark Lord's fists automatically clenched upon hearing that wretched term. He couldn't fathom how Corinne could stoop so _low_. Could she have had relations with a Muggleborn just so she could spite him? The thought made Voldemort feel the urge to murder the first person in sight. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't bring himself to be angry at the woman sitting across from him.

He decided to disregard what Corinne said and proceeded to survey the small lounge. The room itself was drab and empty, the only furniture being the wooden rocking chair Corinne sat in, a sofa with a heap of blankets covering the cushions, and a side table where the lamp was placed. The walls were bare except for a clock and one framed photo, and with further inspection, Voldemort discovered it was a captured moment of Corinne and a young boy with wavy dark hair, Corinne's eyes, and a toothy grin. In the animated photo, Corinne was smiling happily at the camera, occasioning looking down at the boy sitting on her lap and pressing kisses to his hair.

As for the boy, he giggled and squirmed against Corinne's kisses. One corner of Voldemort's thin white lips lifted up ever so slightly, which was a rare sight. Then his face set back into its original grim expression, recomposing his superior stature.

Though he couldn't help but wonder: _If I hadn't decided to dedicate my life to the Dark Arts, would my life be similar to Corinne's? Would she even be apart of it?_

The Dark Lord immediately dismissed such a ludicrous thought.

Corinne tilted her head in curiosity, noticing his interest towards the photo. "That's my oldest son. His name is Henry."

Voldemort nodded, still observing the photograph. "Like your grandfather." He paused before adding, "I assume you still don't speak to your family."

A quiet chuckle escaped from Corinne's lips. "I haven't spoken to them in ten years."

"And Cyrus?"

Corinne's smile disappeared. She stared at the floor. "The family business finally failed back in '47, so Cyrus was free to pursue his own career. After a couple of years of training, he became an Auror. Six years ago he was killed during a mass arrest of several of the last remaining followers of Grindelwald."

Voldemort said nothing. He didn't offer any sympathy or condolences. There was a long stretch of silence, the only sounds in the room being the ticking of the clock and a tiny yawn from one of the infants. Voldemort's attention was drawn back to the photo on the wall.

Corinne noticed this and suddenly added, "His middle name is Tom."

Voldemort's head snapped abruptly in the direction of Corinne, baring his teeth in a sneer. "You dare use my name...?"

"I did," Corinne replied nonchalantly, letting her gaze land on the sofa that was covered in blankets. A tuft of black hair stuck out at the end...

Nothing was supposed to leave the Dark Lord speechless. But something about this mysterious child made him uneasy. He didn't even realize he was already making his way over to the sofa.

"I would appreciate it if you didn't wake him," Corinne said softly. Oddly enough, she didn't protest against him approaching the boy.

Voldemort ignored her, stopping in front of the sofa. Up close, the outline of a body could clearly be seen under the blankets. Before he could reconsider, Voldemort extended his hand towards the heap lying before him, using his long nails to slowly drag the blankets away from the boy's face. The Dark Lord inhaled sharply and took a step backward.

The boy, much older than he is in the photograph, was the spitting image of a young Tom Riddle. His skin was very pale, his cheekbones prominent, and his unruly black hair curled slightly at the ends. Voldemort stared at the sleeping boy with horror and disdain.

Then a disturbing thought entered his mind, making him sway on his feet.

"When was the child born?" he asked lowly.

"The 23rd of March, 1946," said Corinne, eyeing Voldemort as he loomed over her son. "He will be eleven this coming March."

_1946._ The year after he and Corinne graduated from Hogwarts. And on their very last day of school, they...

_No._ It couldn't be possible. He had used the contraceptive spell on both of them, and he remembered very clearly the moment he casted it. But there was always a small chance the spell could be unsuccessful...

"Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?" Voldemort demanded, slowly stepping back over to where Corinne sat.

As intimidating, monstrous, and murderous as Voldemort appeared at that moment, Corinne remained remarkably impassive. And that irritated the Dark Lord greatly.

She gave him a long, hard look, as though she were mentally scolding him. "I think you made it very clear when you chose to become Lord Voldemort that you wanted nothing to do with my life."

Voldemort clenched his jaw. "Does anyone else know...?"

"It didn't take long for my parents to find out," Corinne said, her voice bitter. "They had eyes and ears everywhere. They immediately disowned me from the Carrow family, claiming I disgraced their reputation as a noble bloodline of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, when they discovered I was pregnant with a Half-Blood's child. My parents cut me off from their wealth, so I had to create a new life for myself. I changed my name, managed to get a job as a secretary at the Ministry, and combined the little that I earned with the fortune my grandfather left me to buy myself this house by the time Henry was born."

Her words didn't affect Voldemort in the slightest. He knew everything she had endured over the past eleven years was because of him. Yet he had no ounce of remorse for his past decisions. He certainly didn't regret crafting his new identity and building his status as the Dark Lord.

But something about this situation stirred up some unknown emotion inside him that he hadn't felt in a long time. Not since his days at Hogwarts.

But that was impossible; he wasn't supposed to feel anything anymore.

It had been over ten years since his time at Hogwarts. Now, he was on the brink of beginning a revolution, a new empire, a new _world_. He was immortal after the creation of five Horcruxes thus far.

Emotions were for the weak. And Voldemort was anything _but_ weak. Anyone who thought otherwise wouldn't get the chance to live long enough to be proven wrong.

He should have never visited Corinne in the first place. He couldn't even remember why he showed up on her doorstep tonight after all this time. She did not matter to him. Neither did the boy snoozing obliviously on the sofa.

"Does he know about me?" Voldemort asked, nodding down at the boy- _his biological son._

"No," said Corinne.

"Good." Voldemort began to make his way out of the lounge, deliberating his next words very carefully. "Corinne, do me a favor."

"What is it?" she asked, her voice strained.

He glanced indifferently at the sleeping ten-year-old boy on the sofa one last time before saying, "Make sure he never knows who his father is."

Then the Dark Lord Disapparated, not reuniting with Corinne Carrow again until four decades later.

* * *

Corinne managed to hold back her tears the whole time Tom- no, _Voldemort_ \- was there. The moment he disappeared in a swirl of black robes, she allowed herself to cry.

She didn't realize the loud snap of the Disapparition had woken up Henry, who rubbed his eyes and asked groggily, "Mum, what was that noise?"

Luckily, the sleeping infants in Corinne's arms were still fast asleep. "Darling it's alright," she assured her son. "Mummy just dropped something. Now, I think it's way past your bedtime, young man."

Henry yawned. "But I'm not tired!"

Corinne laughed softly. "I beg to differ."

Upstairs in the nursery, when Corinne had placed the twins in their cribs and kissed them both goodnight, she padded across the hall to Henry's room. He was tucked in his bed with the covers pulled up to his chin, already asleep. Smiling, Corinne tiptoed to her son and leaned down, lifting his hair to place a soft kiss on his forehead. Henry stirred under her touch and his eyes fluttered open.

"Looks like you didn't need me to tuck you in tonight," Corinne whispered, caressing Henry's hair. "My little boy is growing up so fast."

"Mum, I heard you talking to someone when we were in the lounge," said Henry, making his mother's blood run cold. "Did we have a visitor?"

Corinne thought about what Voldemort had told her not to do. As much as she didn't want to lie to her son, he couldn't know the truth about his father. Not yet.

One day, he would know.

"We didn't have a visitor, darling," Corinne said, smiling warmly. "You must have been dreaming."

Likely because he was in such a sleepy state, Henry didn't object. Instead, he asked, "Can you tell me a story?"

Corinne raised an eyebrow, grinning. "The usual?"

Henry nodded eagerly. "Of course."

He scooted over in his twin-sized bed, allowing Corinne to crawl in beside him. She wrapped her arms around Henry as he snuggled up against her chest, his typical bedtime story position. Corinne had a feeling she would be sleeping in her son's room tonight. Not that she minded.

As Henry got situated and became still, Corinne began to recite the story that she'd been telling her son since the day he was born. She would always remember it word-for-word, even when Henry grew too old to hear stories.

"Once upon a time, there was an ordinary girl who loved an extraordinary boy. The girl loved the boy with every fiber of her being, despite the fact that he was doomed for destruction. She loved him even though he became a monster."


	42. Epilogue | What Became of Them

_May, 1998_

For nearly fifty years, a duration of memories had been suppressed in the deepest caverns of Voldemort's mind. Now, everything flooded back to him in what seemed like a never-ending film, but was really an instant. What once felt hollow seemed whole again. A certain warmness filled the Dark Lord in which he could not fathom. Fragments of memories stood out more than others as though the most significant were illuminated.

_The day he was told he was a wizard._

_His first night at Hogwarts._

_The Sorting Hat announcing he was in Slytherin._

_The moment he met Corinne Carrow._

_The first time he kissed Corinne Carrow._

_The day he realized he could no longer be with Corinne Carrow._

_His last night at Hogwarts spent with Corinne Carrow._

_And the night forty years ago when he realized he and Corinne Carrow had created a child together._

Times had changed since then. The world was Voldemort's for the taking. His name made every man, woman, and child tremble in fear. He was now in possession of the most powerful wand ever created and was in control of the Ministry of Magic. Lord Voldemort was unstoppable.

Harry Potter may be in search of the rest of his Horcruxes, and he may have somehow managed to destroy the majority of them. But he was only a mere boy. Harry Potter alone was no match for the most powerful sorcerer in the world. His magic was insufficient compared to that of Lord Voldemort, whose was amplified by the Elder Wand. And when it was time for the boy to die, the Dark Lord would be waiting and would relish in killing the only thing standing in his way of domination.

Voldemort heard a sniffle and turned his attention back to Corinne, whose thin lips were parted and her large eyes were wide and glassy. She stared straight ahead, tears slipping down her cheeks. Her face, which had been blank since she began recalling her memories, contorted with emotion as she snapped out of her trance and turned to rest her gaze on Voldemort again. Her brief startled expression softened at the sight of his familiar face, which was still enchanted to appear as his younger self. Cautiously, Corinne reached out with a shaky hand and lightly touched his handsome features with her fingertips.

"Oh, Tom," she choked out, her voice cracking. "Is it really you?"

"Yes," Voldemort replied, the corners off his lips quirking slightly at the sound of Corinne saying his name again after so long. "It has been a while, hasn't it?"

Smiling, Corinne's quivering hand cupped Voldemort's jaw. He tensed at her gentle touch. "Indeed it has," she whispered.

There was a comfortable silence spent with the two of them taking it all in. They studied each other like they couldn't quite believe they were reunited again after so long. Then Voldemort asked, "What all do you remember?"

"My memory worsens each day," Corinne said, smiling weakly. "I can never keep track of the days or months. Sometimes I even forget what year it is. Just yesterday I couldn't remember how to spell my own name." She swallowed, looking at Voldemort knowingly. "But I remember enough."

Voldemort knew he shouldn't ask, but he did anyway. "Do you remember your family? Any friends?"

Corinne pondered for a moment before she shook her head, her expression pained. "I-I can't recall all of their names, and I most certainly don't remember any of their faces. I don't even know if they're all still alive; it's been so long since I've seen them. Don't I have a brother named Cyril? No, Cyrus! Yes, my dear brother Cyrus! How is he?"

Voldemort stared at the floor. Instead of admitting her brother had long since been deceased, he changed the subject to something he'd wondered about far more than he'd care to admit. His tone gentled greatly as he asked, "What about Henry?"

"Henry." Corinne's brows knitted together in confusion for a moment until her eyes lit up with realization. Her eyes filled with tears again. "Oh, Henry. My precious boy. _Our_ boy. He grew up to be such a caring man. Oh Tom, he looked so much like you. You would have loved him so much."

"You speak of him in past tense," Voldemort said pointedly, a cold feeling pooling in his chest. "Is he...?"

"Not that I know of," said Corinne, her eyes downcast. "Henry didn't just inherit your looks, you know. He was as sharp as a tack, and a great deal cleverer than me. As much as I sheltered him from finding out the truth about you, he somehow realized it anyway. It was sometime during your rise to power, I believe, when he confronted me about it, demanding if his father was the Dark Lord wreaking havoc across the wizarding world. I couldn't lie to him any longer, for he was a grown man and didn't need my protection any longer. Soon after that, he left the country and moved to America. I haven't seen him since. I don't recall the last time I received a letter from him."

Voldemort's jaw clenched. What kind of son abandoned his poor mother? After everything she'd done for him? How could the Dark Lord's own son be such a coward and run away just because the truth was too difficult to handle? Then, a thought occurred to him.

Did Henry leave the country all those years ago because he was afraid of facing his father?

"I also miss Alecto and Amycus terribly," Corinne continued, appearing as if she were talking more to herself. "They were always such troublesome children no matter how much I disciplined them. Even dabbled in the Dark Arts, I think. They joined your rank of followers during the First Wizarding War, didn't they?"

Voldemort nodded. "The Carrow twins have been very loyal to me since then." Although he would not admit that the only reason he allowed them to join the Death Eaters, despite their status as Half-Bloods, was because of their mother. "They were amongst the most noble followers of mine to remain faithful to me even during my years of absence."

"Where are they now?"

"They are professors at Hogwarts." Voldemort did not elaborate on the rest. Corinne could never know how twisted and malicious her youngest children have become.

"Did you know I have two granddaughters?" Corinne said, her tone wistful. "Amycus's daughters, Flora and Hestia. I haven't seen them in so long."

Voldemort didn't respond, but remained patient with Corinne's ailing mind. When her bony thumb began tracing his cheekbone while she shook her head, muttering something unintelligible under her breath, he questioned her, "What's wrong?"

"This isn't you," Corinne whispered. "You're not the real Tom."

"It is me, Corinne," Voldemort assured her, unsure of what to do. Had she already forgotten who he was again? "I'm here."

"You're wearing a mask," Corinne told him. "Take it off. I want to see the real you."

Voldemort realized what she wanted and did as she asked. He lifted the enchantment he'd placed on himself, revealing his true form. He waited for Corinne to gasp in horror or scream as she had done before. But she did not cower or panic at the sight of his horrid serpentine features. She only smiled.

"There," Corinne said. "We are equal now."

"Equal," Voldemort repeated.

After another minute of content silence, Corinne suddenly blurted out, "How is Bellatrix?"

Voldemort couldn't stop the surprise from blooming on his countenance. Of all the things she remembered, she knew about _Bellatrix Lestrange?_

"Bellatrix is one of my most devoted followers," Voldemort stated. "That is all she has ever been. I don't know what foolish rumor you're referring to."

"I may be old, but I can still hear," Corinne countered, her tone strangely amused and not angry. "I've heard several rumors over the years. I'm not sure if I believe most of them. Among the most popular is how you began a relationship with Miss Lestrange when she was only seventeen, and how she became more than just one of your followers over the years. I've even heard you two conceived a child together. How curious!"

Voldemort remained calm on the outside, despite how much he was fuming inside. "All lies," he fibbed with ease. "And besides, it is better not to dwell too much in the past."

"But isn't _our_ past what you just took the time to show me?" Corinne fired back. "Why would you remind me of it if you think it is not worth dwelling in?"

"I did it for your sake," Voldemort said fiercely. "Not mine."

"Are you sure about that?"

Abruptly, Corinne's chest convulsed as another bout of coughing struck her, just as violent and painful as the last one. She used her sleeve to muffle the coughs, pulling her arm away from her mouth only to leave the fabric stained in blood. Finally when the spell subsided, Corinne's head fell back against the pillow, her breaths labored and wheezy.

"You're ill," Voldemort said, watching her with apprehension. "Why haven't you visited a doctor?"

Corinne smiled feebly. "Any doctor I see will tell me what I already know. I'm dying."

"Corinne, you're not-"

Interrupting him, Corinne set her hand on his arm. This time he did not flinch. "Tom, I've accepted my fate. I'm alright with it. And when my time comes, I would rather be in the home where I raised my children and built an entire life for myself than cooped up in a hospital bed at St. Mungos."

Voldemort could feel her weak pulse in her wrist against his skin, making dread settle heavily in the pit of his stomach. He was more afraid now than he was when he discovered that nearly all of his Horcruxes had been destroyed.

"Can I ask you something, Tom?" Corinne asked, her voice dwindled to a croak.

"Anything."

"Why are you so fixated on killing the Potter boy?"

Voldemort was taken back by the bluntness of the question. "The prophecy states that-"

"I know of the prophecy," Corinne interrupted, holding up a hand. "But is it worth it trying to kill Harry Potter now, after it almost destroyed you attempting to murder him the first time? Hasn't it ever occurred to you that maybe you can't cheat fate? That good will triumph over evil no matter what? There is a such thing as too much power, Tom. Think of what happened to Grindelwald."

"I am nothing like Grindelwald," Voldemort snapped.

"I used to think the same thing," Corinne admitted sadly. "I used to believe there was some good in you. I know it's too late for you now, but do you ever wonder what could have been? Do you wonder what could have happened if you hadn't let the darkness seep in?"

Voldemort's answer was simple and straightforward. "Darkness existed in me the moment I was born. It was inevitable that I would become what I am today. Now that I have done so, I regret none of my sins. I do not wonder about fantasies that were never possible for me."

"Do you regret what happened between us at Hogwarts?"

"You know the answer to that."

"That was over fifty years ago," Corinne said. "I want to know if you regret it _now._ "

It was something Voldemort had once thought about constantly, but hadn't done so in decades. He'd forced himself to believe his and Corinne's time together had been a careless affair meant to satisfy his boyish needs. It was overwhelming to think otherwise when it wasn't supposed to be physically possible.

Voldemort decided then to be honest with Corinne one last time. He knew this would be the last time he would see her alive. She deserved to know the truth.

"It has always been impossible for me to love," he said, urging Corinne to look at him. She looked as though she were about to doze off. "I have never been able to understand love or any humanly emotions. I can no longer feel anything now because my soul has been severed too many times. But Corinne, I believe that all those years ago, you were able to bring something out in me that may have closely resembled love. You were the only person who made me feel remotely human. And that terrified me. At the time, it pained me to leave you, but you must understand that it was to ensure you the best life possible. To answer your question, no, I do not regret what we shared. I believe I _loved_ you, Corinne."

Corinne's breaths grew more heavy and labored by the minute. Her eyes fluttered open and closed with fatigue, though she remained smiling. Her frail hand found Voldemort's and grasped it lightly. Her voice was barely audible, reduced to a faint whisper. Every movement she made was effortful.

"I love you, Tom," Corinne said, her heavy-lidded eyes full of affection. "I always have. And I always will."

Her grip on Voldemort's hand slackened. Her eyelids finally drooped shut and her face relaxed into a peaceful expression. Eventually the steady rise and fall of her chest slowed to a stop.

Voldemort watched as Corinne Carrow drew her final breath before her whole body went completely still, and she was gone.

"Goodbye, my dear Corinne," Voldemort whispered genuinely, stroking her cold cheek before rising to his feet, looking at the woman he once loved one last time before Disapparating in a cloud of black smoke, allowing the demise of Corinne Carrow to further fuel his murderous vigor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! :) 
> 
> I just want to say thank you to everyone who gave this story a chance and made it all the way to the end. This is largely unedited so I apologize for any mistakes or inconsistencies. Having wrote this four years ago, there are some things I would definitely change but I decided to leave the story as it is. I hope you enjoyed it!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr if you want to come yell at me @timelordstark


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